Robert McNamara's Eighth Lesson
by Anna Taure
Summary: How much evil can you do, to do what is right? It's Erik Lehnsherr's turn to answer this question. At what cost?
1. Recruits

**A/N:** Hello to my readers and fellow X-Men fans! Here is an AU on the last movie, based on this postulate: "What if Shaw had managed to experiment on another Lehnsherr?"

It will mostly use movie materials, but some elements were picked from the original comics, as well as _Magneto: the Testament_, whatever my Polish relatives may think about it.

Rated for swearing and some adult themes (but nothing graphic).

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>the X-Men universe and characters do not belong to me (much to my endless sorrow), and I am making no money with this story.

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><p><strong>1 - Recruits<strong>

For once, Charles Xavier was perfectly happy to take the passenger seat while his newfound friend Erik Lehnsherr drove them back the CIA facility they currently inhabited. Thank God, the man's driving style was less aggressive than his usual behaviour, and their last recruit, seventeen-year-old Angel Salvadore, was now peacefully sleeping on the back seat, exhausted after their travel from Las Vegas, something Charles was grateful for. The string of thoughts he had gotten from the girl during the night had been rather annoying, not to mention disturbing. To think she had first planned to bed either of them after work, then left them alone in the private room hoping for an eyeful, and been sorely disappointed when they had done nothing but exchange some kisses...

Oh dear... Hearing all this had been more than embarrassing. Charles slightly turned his head towards the window to hide the blush slowly creeping up his cheeks. He could only hope he would never broadcast these memories while under stress or asleep. The CIA agents were already wary of mutants, so if you added another 'deviation' to the list, they were unlikely to take it kindly.

That was one of those days when Charles was firmly convinced that being a telepath sucked. Royally. Not that he would admit it in front of Lehnsherr, of course. The metalbender had an unhealthy tendency to point the many drawbacks of such a mutation, and he could not completely trust Charles precisely because of his abilities, even though the younger man had promised not to use them without an explicit permission. As for Charles himself, he was both attracted and afraid by Erik, for reasons he would probably never admit aloud. He knew their weird relationship would only hurt him in the end, but he still wanted to go on with it. At least Erik had not punched him when he had made his first move, and that single fact alone was comforting.

The awkward situation ended when they reached their destination and Angel reluctantly left her seat for a more traditional bed. Agent McTaggert cast her a disbelieving look when she noticed her clothes. Or rather, lack of.

"Are you out of your mind?" she nearly screeched. "This girl is a... a tramp! A prostitute!"

Angel looked like she was going to use Moira as a practice target.

"- Stripper, to be accurate", Erik countered.

"- And coming from the woman who stripped down to her lingerie to infiltrate the HellFire Club, it is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black", rumbled the low voice of director McCone as the man joined them.

At that point, Charles smirked and Erik let out a whistle, earning himself a glare from McTaggert. If looks could kill...

"- We get the recruits wherever we can find them, McTaggert. Good job, you two."

"- Thank you, sir."

"- And Miss? Welcome to the Agency."

Angel flashed him her most charming smile and Erik just groaned in dismay. Trying to flirt with the Director, now? McCone was nearly old enough to be her grand-father, for Heaven's sake!

The two men went to their rooms still chuckling. Any other time, Charles would have objected to this behaviour as rude and cruel, but Moira's words stung. His mother Sharon had used the same disgusted voice when she had met Raven for the first time. _Oh Charles, really... We do not need a destitute in the house, one useless mouth to feed. Honestly, my boy, what were you thinking?_ It also had been the first time in his life he had used his gift to force someone to act out of their free will. His mother had suddenly accepted Raven's presence and treated her as if she was her foster-daughter indeed. Everything had gone fine until Mrs Xavier had decided to marry again.

At least this little episode with Angel would prevent McTaggert from trying to flirt with him for a while. One could only hope. She was nice, of course, and good-looking, and reasonably smart. But... bland. Not an ounce of challenge for him. Erik, on the other hand...

Charles was so tired that he was asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow. He did not even have time to consider the wisdom (or not) of introducing a beautiful and daring stripper to a group made mostly of hormonal (male) teenagers.

# #

On the following morning, this particular problem came back to him in the form of an irate wake-up call from John McCone himself.

"Mr Xavier?"

The pounding on his door seemed to echo in his head like a hammer.

"- Mr Xavier? You still in there?"

"- Yes sir, just a little minute, please."

Charles quickly grabbed a shirt and trousers, and hastily put them one.

"- What happened ?" he groaned after opening the door to find a rather displeased CIA director in front of him.

"- What happened was some _mischief_ with your latest mutant, who considered extremely funny to tempt two agents with a little show, while the rest of the gang used their powers on them."

Charles barely refrained from cursing.

"- Though my employees may have deserved it due to their endless taunting, a less radical course of action would be appreciated in the future. Like reporting to a senior officer, for instance."

"- Point taken, sir. I'll talk with them as soon as possible."

McCone nodded and left, allowing Charles to quickly shower and dress properly.

When he met Erik in a conference room a little later, the German-born mutant had already learnt about the incident, and Charles did not even need to read his mind to hear his _And you want to __teach__ those brats?_

It was so clearly written on his face.

_Lord, help me..._

At least he would not have to deal with the grumpy, cigare-smoking Canadian they had tried to recruit before Angel appeared on Cerebro. Go fuck yourselves indeed, you ass.


	2. Frosty Territory

A/N : Hello! A huge thank you to my first reviewers. I hope you will like this new chapter.

Just a question before we start: am I the only one who thinks of Paul Atreides each time Charles Xavier does that little trick with his fingers on his temple? I remember when McAvoy played Leto II Atreides in Children of Dune and the similarity of the gesture is passing curious.

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><p><strong>2- A Little Trip into Frosty Territory<strong>

The whole trip to Russia was pretty much silent, except for the greetings the team had received from the pilots after boarding the plane. The soldiers were not of the talkative type, Charles did not want to chat with Moira, and Erik was brooding, once again thanks to Alex's "diplomacy". The rogue teenager had sarcastically commented on Erik's parental skills when the older mutant had tried to reassure an overstressed McCoy, two days before their departure. Lehnsherr's mood had immediately darkened, and Alex had thought safer to leave the room. Charles had not said a word, waiting for his friend to talk.

It had taken him hours, but Erik had finally explained his strange behaviour. Shortly after the end of the war, he had met another former prisoner, a Sinti Gipsy named Magda, and tried to help the almost-catatonic woman. In the process, he had... not fallen in love with her, but at least started to like her company. They had tried to forget, to free themselves from the permanent nightmares... The only positive result had been a daughter, named Anya, born on the 4th of March, 1950. It had not improved their situation. Erik had only been twenty-one when the child came, far too young and battered to be a father, but he had tried as hard as he could. He had succeeded, as far as Charles could judge. The child had been clever for her age, and eager to learn. But it had not been enough. Madga had turned increasingly distant, indifferent even to her child, not only because of Erik's obsession with finding Shaw, but also from her deteriorating state of mind. Shortly after the child's seventh birthday, Erik had come back "home" from on of his temporary jobs only to find the place in ashes.

"The police told me they did not found anyone inside the building except the poor drunkard who started the fire. So I assume Magda just took the opportunity to leave. With my girl. My girl. My little lucky charm..."

Something else Lehnsherr could not forgive, apparently. Charles had not needed to wander in his friend's mind to know he loved his child deeply and missed her. She would be twelve this year, provided she still lived. For his friend's sake, Charles hoped she did, though some tiny, dark spot in his mind rejected the idea of sharing Erik with anyone, relatives included.

After that, Erik had barely said a word, and not a single one since they took off for Russia.

# #

Three days later, his mood had not improved, but at least, he was back to verbal communication. Not that it did Emma Frost much good. Even when she reverted back to her human form, she still sported nasty purple bruises on her throat and wrists, and had trouble speaking for hours after Erik had "calmed her down". But they had now a better understanding of Shaw's plan. Charles could have done without it. He was terrified. Knowing that a virtually unstoppable, immortal madman was trying to start a nuclear Third World War to eliminate humans and create a higher rate of mutations in the remaining population was more than enough to give him nightmares. But he had found something else in her mind, somehow even more disturbing for a young scholar like him. Shaw had built a new laboratory, coupled with a training camp, somewhere near Krasnoïarsk, and started to experiment again. Using children. Again. And killing them in case of failure. Again.

Erik was enraged when he learnt that.

"- We must fetch..."

"- You're right", McTaggert interrupted, "but unfortunately, we cannot do it now. We need more intelligence on this place. And we have barely enough fuel to reach the Philippines. We will come back for them, though. But first, we have to stop Shaw. It would be useless to rescue the children if he's still around to replace them."

"- Point taken", Erik grudgingly admitted.

"- All right. Let's go."

The journey back to the States took four whole days, due to an obtrusive Air Force captain back on Hawaii, who had refused to believe they were working for the CIA. After a dressing down from both McTaggert and her reporting officer, the man had relented and allowed them to leave the island.

What awaited them left them chilled to the bones.

# #

The CIA base had been attacked during their absence. Charles understood what Frost had meant when she had told him Shaw had some "pressing business" elsewhere. He had managed to track the small team of young mutants down to their refuge and killed everyone in his path to reach them and try to convert them to his ideal of war against mankind.

It was a complete disaster. Darwin had been killed, nothing remaining of his body to bury, and Angel had left them. Countless agents had died trying to stop the murderers, including one of Hank McCoy's close friends. Charles' remaining protégés were still shocked, dazed, as if fallen by a sudden blow. Though not everything was lost...

"- So you got Frost?" asked Alex. "That makes us even, then."

"- Two to one is hardly even", Erik pointed out through clenched teeth.

"- We got someone else", Sean explained. "The bastard came with a guy that can generate twisters, if you can imagine that, and another one that teleports and looks like a red demon, complete with sharp fangs and pointed tail, if you can believe that. He's freakin' good with blades, by the way. And Shaw also brought two kids."

"- By kids, he means younger than us", Hank added. "A boy of fifteen that controls electricity, not that he was very good at it, and a girl who's an excellent hydrokinetic."

"- Charles, she can't be more than twelve", Raven said, obviously shocked. "At least she managed to escape that madman."

"- Where is she?"

"- Infirmary. She knocked the boy out by dipping his feet in water while he tried to zap a guard, and... pushed the teleporter away before he could get any of us. But after that, she had a rather... massive panic attack", Sean supplied. "Poor little thing could barely breathe."

"- I'll check on her. Erik, can you...?"

"- Of course. I'll take care of them."

While Erik tried to comfort the younger mutants, Charles raced to the infirmary. Maybe it would have been better to stay with Raven and the others, since Lehnsherr was not an adept of comforting, but depending on the child's mental state, telepathy might come in handy.

"- Mr Xavier! None of your teenagers is in my domain, no need to worry!" Doctor Pendrell called out.

"- I know that... but I heard you had... another patient," Charles panted.

"- Oh yes... Such a little sweetheart. Agent Phelps is with her right now. Just asking some quick questions", the doctor added, seeing Charles's frown.

"- How is she?"

"- Surprisingly well", Pendrell answered at once. "Physically, she's all right, except for the burn scars on her left arm. Mentally... well, I'm not an expert, but she acts pretty normal for me. Of course, you'll be able to find if something is wrong with her mind, right?"

"- At least, I'll try. May I?"

"- As you like it, prof."

They had settled the girl in a separate room. Charles cast a look through the open door. He did not see much apart from agent Phelps' greying hair and broad shoulders, and the top of a brown-haired head.

"Emma Frost was the first to join Shaw, in 51, I think, and then Riptide. They got Azazel last", the girl was explaining. "Since Az teleports all the time, Frost can't concentrate on him easily, and she had to search for him longer than for the others. He joined in 1954, I believe. Frost put a block in his brain so he can't even imagine to escape, or else he gets headaches and starts to bleed from his nose and ears. It's ugly."

She spoke with a slight eastern European accent, quite close to Erik's, Charles noticed, and did not have, thanks God for small favours, the high-pitched tone that most girls possessed at that age.

"- And are there any other children like you?" Phelps asked.

"- There are. Frost detects us when we use our powers for the first time. She says it generates an unique brainwave pattern. When I arrived, there were eleven other children. Only two remain, now: Nicolaï, who was here last night, and Petra. She detects lies. Since it's a bit useless in a fight, they left her in Russia. You will help her, please?"

"- As soon as we are rid of Shaw", the agent promised.

"- And don't try and shoot Azazel. He's the only one to really take care of us", the child added in a rush.

"- Are there not other adults in that facility?"

"- Some normal people, yes, but Frost brainwashes them so frequently they do not even remember their own name. And then, Shaw kills them", the girl spat. "Who is that?"

She had finally spotted Charles, standing on the threshold.

"- May I introduce professor Charles Xavier, our resident telepath?"

"- Telepath?" the girl repeated, narrowing her eyes.

"-With manners", Charles added quickly, stepping in. "I promise I won't come into your mind without knocking and asking for your permission first."

He could now take a good look at her, and felt like someone had punched the breath out of him. A delicate, though tall frame, sandy brown hair, greenish-blue eyes, sharp features...

He was staring at a younger, female version of Erik Lehnsherr.


	3. Child of Mine

Hello readers (yes, readers with a plural. I know thank to the stats that you guys from the US are reading this... ;p ).

Here is a new chapter of my little AU. I hid two references to TV shows in this one and chapter 2 (three if you really squint), and anyone who find them will receive a virtual cookie. :)

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><p><strong>3 – Child of Mine<strong>

Charles gingerly took a step towards the bed, feeling strangely light-headed. When and how had the HellFire gang found the girl? How could he tell Erik that Shaw had managed to take hold of his beloved child, and begun to turn her into a new toy, a new lab rat? He could barely refrain his friend from going after Shaw alone now. He would not be able to stop him after _that_.

"Anything I can do for you, sir?" the girl asked, craning her neck to get a better view.

She giggled when she saw him, and small wonder. She was already tall for her age, and when she was done growing up, she would certainly be taller than him. It would not be the first time someone made fun of his small stature. However, the bright smile on her face reassured him. She did not act like a frightened animal; there would be no need to tame the dragon like with Erik.

"- I think you did not introduce yourself, young lady", he chided gently.

"- Did you not read my mind?"

"- I promised I would ask for your permission. So... Charles Xavier, very pleased to meet you", he said, extending his right hand.

She took it and squeezed. She had long and bony fingers, and her grip felt rather strong.

"Anya Lehnsherr, nice to meet you, sir."

Phelps emitted a low whistle, then groaned,

"- It's not helping."

"- I thought the same", Charles sighed.

"- He'll go ballistic!"

"- No doubt."

"- Hey, I'm still in the room, you know", Anya ranted. "Who are you talking about? Is it my father? Shaw said he was picked up by some G-Men and..."

"- Ow, ow... stop that, please."

Her increasingly agitated mind was giving Charles a major headache. She could barely keep her thoughts under control. Phelps quickly left, calling for a doctor. Pendrell joined them soon enough, and his soothing words calmed the child down, leaving Charles with little white dots spinning before his eyes.

"- You... you will want to be more careful with that, right?"

"- I'm sorry", she mumbled. "But... Did you see him?"

Charles tried to pull out his kindest smile.

"He must be just some corridors away. I'll go and fetch him. Or would you want to get up and come with me?"

Anya nodded slowly, then turned an expectant eye to Doctor Pendrell. The older man smiled.

"I'll get your clothes. You're free to go."

Charles walked back to his little brood feeling quite apprehensive. They were all standing near his car, and someone had brought their sparse luggage. Hank was still trying to comfort Raven, while Alex and Sean brooded, as far from each other as they could.

"- Are we leaving?", Sean asked.

"- Just a moment, if you please, we have a last-minute addition."

"- So our little water-controlling defector is coming as well?" Alex groaned. "Great... A kid... Who feels like babysitting?"

"- I do not think she will need it."

"- Good."

Charles cast a quick glance to Erik, not knowing how the older man would react. Lehnsherr was turning to face him, but came to an abrupt stop. His face grew visibly paler and he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. He looked like a drowning man. Before anyone could reach him, Anya ran past them to give her father a tight hug. Her slender hands were clutching his jacket, with no sign of letting go. For a whole minute, Erik stood there, as if struck by lightening. Then, very slowly, he wrapped his arms around his daughter's thin shoulders.

"- His kid?" Alex asked.

"- Indeed."

"- Aww... That's nice", Sean approved, grinning. "Look to the bright side of life, gents, we have a new girl in the team!" he added, throwing his fist in the air.

Raven let out a nervous laugh. Erik did not seem to have heard. He was now kneeling in front of his daughter, studying her face, his fingers ghosting over a cheek, as if he was afraid to touch her, as if a contact could make her vanish like a dream. Charles hated interrupting such a moment, but they had to leave the ruined facility as soon as possible. He cleared his throat, feeling awfully rude and awkward. Two pairs of blue-green eyes darted towards him, and suddenly Charles wanted nothing more than disappear under a carpet or... anything.

"- I'm sorry. We must go", he said, rather lamely.

"- We're coming."

And Erik could not miss the obvious relief on Charles' face. Had he been so afraid the two Lehnsherr would leave? Of course Erik felt some attraction for the young professor, and it seemed the feeling was mutual, but he had not expected the scholar to be more than just flirting. Why had he not admitted it, then? Was he so shy? Adorable little lab rat...

Hopefully Erik would have some time to try and solve this puzzle. He rose to his feet, Anya's hand firmly gripping his, and they walked towards the car.

# #

The trip to Westchester was uneventful. Alex remained silent during the whole journey, while Raven and Sean quickly launched into an animated chat with Anya. The girl was terribly curious about her new team mates. Erik said nothing, but he never let go of his hold on his daughter's hand. Charles was torn between smiling at this rare display of tenderness and being very worried about his friend's future reaction. The man was now just on a blissful cloud but soon his logical mind would begin to process information, to ask questions... and Charles was afraid of the explosion of rage he foresaw.

Their arrival provided a temporary relief. The kids were stunned by the size of the mansion.

"- Were did you get the money?" Sean wondered.

"- Four centuries of successful trading and good placements", Charles answered with a half-smile.

"- Poor Charles, I can't understand how you could survive such a misery", Erik sniggered, earning himself an elbow in the ribs, courtesy of his daughter.

"- Papa!" she protested.

"- Well, I was here to help", Raven countered, frowning.

Charles said nothing. Erik's words did not hurt that much. The man did not know. Even his foster sister did not know everything.

"Follow me for the tour", Raven added, and the group entered the house, the young woman playing the guide with obvious delight.

Unlike her father, Anya was really pleased by the change of set. As soon as they went in, she left the group to start exploring on her own, Charles on her heels. She could not get lost in the house, its plan being rather simple, but he'd rather monitor her. Erik would turn him into a bedside rug if anything happened to the child.

After a while, Anya asked:

"- Where will I stay ?"

"- I was thinking of the west wing. I'm living there, as well as Raven, and the rooms are still furnished. I suppose everyone will settle there, at least for now."

"- Why are the other rooms empty? Are you really living here alone with Raven?"

"- In fact, it's the first time we have come back here in five years", Charles answered, trying to hide his discomfort.

"- Are all the others dead ?" she asked casually.

Of course, he thought, saddened, she would be familiar with death.

"Some died, some left", he said, then shrugged. "I don't really miss the company."

They paused in front of a bow-window and observed the gardens for some minutes.

"- How do you cope with Shaw and the rest?" Charles asked after a while. "Some people would just break. Obviously, you don't. Others would turn cold and a little... obsessed."

"- Like my father, you mean?"

Charles nodded, and Anya watched him with more wisdom than you would expect for a twelve-year old.

"- I prefer the make-fun-of-it-before-you-start-to-cry approach", she said. "You should know this one, you use it all the time. You hate this house. You're worried for my father and Raven and the boys. But you say nothing of it. You smile and you take care of them. Who's taking care of you?"

"- No one", he confessed.

"- AH! Here you are!"

Raven's cheerful voice broke the moment, and the connection Charles had felt with Erik's child.

"- I wanted to know if I could pick a room with a view on the gardens", Anya quickly lied. "And if I could borrow some clothes."

"- We still have some of Raven's dresses. Of course, they're a bit old-fashioned, but they will do."

"- I'm afraid. I'm very afraid."

"- And you have every right to be", Raven agreed. "Each time a guy says it will do, it ends in a fashion disaster."

Both girls laughed at that, and under Raven's guiding, Anya finally found the room of her dreams. They started to unfold sheets and covers, Charles came to help, and soon the bed was made. The bedroom was still awfully empty, the child having brought no personal belongings (and Charles doubted she had any apart from the clothes on her back). The professor made some calculations. Dresses, of course, blouses, shoes, some trousers since she seemed fond of them...

"- All done!" she chirped.

"- Perfect!" Charles beamed. "Call me or Raven if you need anything."

"- Yes mum."

The young man felt his ears burning, and Raven's giggles followed him while he retreated to the hall.

Two hours later, Charles left his new students in their rooms and headed for the garage. The supplies he had in the kitchen would not be enough for eight guests. Rather unsurprisingly, he discovered Erik had followed him.

"- Where are you going?"

"- Would you please stop being so suspicious?" Charles groaned. "I'll just do some shopping. I can't leave my students to starve", he added more lightly.

"- Need a hand?"

"- You're welcome."

"- Is Anya all right?"

"- She is. She found a room not far from yours. I bet she must be exploring the grounds, now."

"- Good. I'll have to talk with her, but... I don't... I don't know where to start", Erik admitted.

"- Don't worry about it", Charles advised, feeling his friend's distress. "She missed you. A lot. She wants you back. There's no need to be afraid of failure, in this particular case. Anything you say will be welcome."

Charles drove them to Westchester in relative silence after that. It took them one hour to gather all the items on his list. Erik, of course, objected that it was too much, and Charles countered that they had, amongst others, two teenagers and a soon-to-be teen still growing up at home, and those three alone would require a lot. They were going back to the car when someone called after them.

"Mary mother of God! Damn me if it's not Charles Xavier!"

Both mutants turned to see a short, plump man walking towards them, waving his hand. He must be about sixty, Erik estimated, with a thick mop of grey hair and kind brown eyes. He shook Charles' hand with so much enthusiasm Erik almost feared he would break it. The newcomer was more careful when he shook Lenhsherr's hand, though. Charles' eyes widened, but he promptly reverted back to his usual calm and smiling face.

"- So, back from good ol'England, young man? I heard they made a professor out of you."

"- They did. So, before you think I'm deliberately rude, Doc, this is Erik Lehnsherr."

"- His new... associate", Erik informed him.

"- Erik, Doctor Brent Spinner, my former physician", Charles went on.

"- It's nice to have you back, my boy. Well, let's go get some drinks to celebrate. I'm buying!"

The man being one of Charles's friends, Erik assumed it would be safe to accept. And he was not a man to turn down an invitation for a good whiskey.

Ten minutes later the trio was sitting at a table of the Founding Fathers, and Charles ordered their drinks.

"- You're my guests", Spinner protested.

"- Make yourself a bit more... visible", Charles hissed.

Erik frowned. Had his associate suddenly gotten cracked? Spinnet was visible enough, thanks to his florid face. Once the drinks were brought, Spinner and Charles started chatting in good humour and Erik merely listened, trying to pick any clue, any kind of information. Charles had boasted he knew everything about the German-born mutant, and Erik wanted nothing more than to turn the tables on the telepath.

He soon felt disappointed, as the two men only talked about Charles's studies and the people he had met back in England. So Erik was more than a little bit surprised when, after Spinner paid their drinks (though Erik had the distinct impression that Charles had slipped a banknote in the doctor's hand) and they left the bar, Spinner caught his sleeve and pulled him to a stop.

"May I have a word with you, please?"

Erik shrugged.

"- Charles seems to trust you a lot", Spinner went on. "I must confess I'm surprised. Usually, he's not so forward."

"- He flirts with every girl he finds even remotely attractive", Erik countered.

"- There's a huge difference between flirting and trusting, as you must know. Give the lad a chance. He only wants to help."

"- I'm not sure I'm able to trust anyone, Mr Spinner. I have a very little supply of it."

"- Good Lord, what happened to you to make you so bitter?" Spinner choked.

"- A lot of things."

"- Right, no more asking", Spinner conceded.

"- One question for you : is Charles always this... naïve and innocent about the world?"

"- Him, innocent?"

Spinner seemed to sag against the wall.

"When he was a child, yes, no doubt. Now, he's merely acting the part. Believe it or not, Mr Lehnsherr, Charles understands you far better than you can imagine. Have a good day, young man."


	4. Brothers

Hello dear readers; here is a little introspective chapter. Good reading to you all, and don't forget the button at the bottom of the page: reviews are the author's fuel.

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><p><strong>4 – My Brother's Keeper<strong>

They were alone now, all the others asleep in their rooms and in some cases, snoring soundly. Charles knew Erik was just toying with his book, his mind miles away from the text. He did not dare open his mouth. He did not need to probe his friend's mind (or were they really just friends?) to understand his internal turmoil. The telepath said nothing. He just waited. In the end, Erik gave up first. Patience was not his forte, whatever he might say about it.

"- What is it, Charles? You've been treading around me as if I were a bottle of nitroglycerin."

"- It's just... I'm rather surprised you have not broken anything yet."

"- Yet being the key word here", Erik snapped. "I just can't. Not right now. Trust me, I feel like breaking every single piece of metal in this house, or every single bone in Shaw's body. But it would be a poor way to thank you for your hospitality if I destroyed anything."

"- Oh, now that I think about it, there are these hideous vases my mother used to collect", Charles mused. "You could do a number on them, it would only improve the settings."

Erik snorted. Charles could be absolutely ridiculous, sometimes. But when he saw the younger man's lopsided grin, he could not help but smiling too, oh so slightly. Some of the tension eased slowly, and Erik allowed himself to enter the game.

"- You're serious?"

"- Of course I'm serious! I'm always serious. If you feel like breaking something, please take a hammer and feel free to proceed. If you think it will help."

Charles was indeed very serious again. Erik could just not look at him. He had never received so much sympathy, such an unconditional trust, so much... understanding, in all his life. And he knew that the telepath would not prevent him from leaving if he wanted to. With Charles, Erik was free to go. That alone made him stay.

"- I will have a look at these vases", Erik promised with a smirk. "But not now. Today was... taxing, at the very least."

"- No kidding", Charles sighed. "I begin to understand why my parents did not want a large family."

Erik waited for his friend to add some more details, but the younger man remained silent. He was strangely reluctant to talk about his family. Erik knew both Xavier's parents were dead, but that was all. He did not know how or when Raven had entered Charles' life, how the man had become such a powerful telepath, why he was playing the naïve guy... He realized he had been staring at Charles for some minutes when he met his curious blue eyes.

"- Did I grow pointed ears and an pair of horns?" the professor asked with an amused smile.

"- No... I'm sorry", Erik stammered. "It's just..."

"- Go to sleep", Charles advised.

He rose from his chair and leaned over his friend, resting his hands on Erik's shoulders, and kissed him gently.

"- Training starts tomorrow", he added after breaking the kiss.

"- Certainly. What kind of reward can I expect if I behave?"

Charles shook his head and left for his room. He should not tease Erik this way, of course. It went against everything he had been taught. He could almost hear his mother scoffing in disgust, the parish priest calling it a sin, his father-in-law labelling him a sissy and a fag, but on his life, he could not understand why. How could it be wrong to share his life with someone so exceptional? Truth be told, Lehnsherr was not the easiest man to live with, and yet, and yet... Buried under the thick layers of pain, hatred and self-loathing, there was still some good and kindness in Erik.

If Charles had not already been convinced of it, he would have only had to watch the interaction between Erik and his child.

Leaning against the wall, he listened to his friend's gentle voice, the soft murmur of German words, promises that all would be fine... Charles, not understanding what was being said, smiled in the dark, and left his two lost souls together. He went to sleep that night believing things would settle just fine, now.

Three hours later, he was proven wrong.

# #

The storm of feelings that hit his mind was so strong that, for a moment, the telepath could not separate his own thoughts from the maelstrom of emotions that invaded his conscience. Fear, sorrow, anger, guilt... Whoever was projecting all this was drowning in despair. Charles rose from his bed and checked first on Anya. The girl was in her room, still asleep, and nothing negative came from her. It only left Erik. The closer Charles came, the worst the feeling got. When he reached his friend's door, he was almost nauseous. He entered the room nonetheless.

Erik was still asleep, but obviously lost in the clutches of one of his worst nightmares. His body was so tense it seemed ready to break, his fists clenching the sheets tightly, his face contorted in pain. Charles slowly walked to the bed and sat on the edge. His brain was suffering from a massive headache, he could see small coloured dots dancing before his eyes and he wanted nothing more than a cloth and cold water to calm the infernal pounding behind his forehead, but he still reached for Erik's hand. It felt icy cold. The telepath knew better than trying to make his way through Erik's mind in the middle of such a vicious episode. He wrapped his arms around the other man, held him close and whispered soothing, meaningless words in his ear, hoping it would calm him down. It did not work much, and though the metalbender relaxed a little bit, he could not escape his nightmare.

"How is he? He has the dreams again?"

Charles looked up to find Anya standing on the threshold, her eyes still heavy with slumber.

"- I think so. How often did he have these attacks?"

"- Once every three months, I'd say", she said, sitting at his feet. "Mum had them more often."

A moment of silence.

"I explained what happened five year ago", she added in a small voice. "After I got injured in the fire, my mother dropped me at the nearest hospital and fled. I stayed there for two days, and then Jadis arrived."

Charles smiled at the nickname Anya had found for Emma Frost. The White Witch of Narnia fitted the cold-blooded telepath like a glove.

"She told me all would be fine", the child sighed. "That nice people would take care of me..."

Erik whimpered in his sleep. Anya climbed up next to Charles and nestled against her father's chest. Her method proved effective and Charles was both impressed and amazed to see his friend completely relax in a matter of minutes. The flood of emotions stopped, and the headache that threatened to blind the telepath receded. Charles decided to stay a bit longer, though; it would not hurt to check on Erik a little more, just to be on the safe side.

# #

On the following morning, Charles opened his eyes to find he was still in his friend's room, and worse, still in his friend's bed, his arms wrapped around the other man's waist. He frowned. Had he really fallen asleep while watching over Erik? He carefully extracted his right arm from under the sleeping German and crawled back to the edge of the bed. He noticed that Anya was nowhere to be seen, and assumed she had gotten back to her own bedroom at some point during the night. He could not remember that either.

A groan warned him that Erik was waking as well. The older mutant stirred and pushed the covers back, then noticed his friend still sitting some inches away from him.

"- What the hell are you...?"

"- I'm sorry", Charles said immediately while getting up as fast as he could. "You had another... nightmare, I'm afraid."

"- What did I tell you about this?" Erik growled.

"- I know", the telepath sighed. "But it was so intense you projected your thoughts. Intense enough to make me physically sick."

"- Tell me", Erik croaked. "Do you think there is some kind of curse on my family? I can't imagine an other explanation. He killed my mother, used me as his pet lab rat, then did the same to my child."

Something that was half a growl and half a sob escaped him.

"- Such a father I am. I could not even protect my own daughter from that bastard. How can you expect me to protect you students?"

"- Does she blame you for what happened?"

Erik shook his head.

"Of course not", Charles went on. "In fact, she spent a good deal of time with you during the night, and I dare say she helped you more than I did. A resentful child would not do that. Whatever happened in Russia made her mature sooner than usual, and she can think as an adult. No petty grudges to fear from the young lady."

He paused, then frowned.

"Knowing Alex and Sean", he added, "theses qualities will be more than welcome."

Then a smile curved his mouth again.

"So, ready for training, now?"

His enthusiasm was contagious, and Erik could not help but smiling back.

# #

The students around the breakfast table in the kitchen were extremely excited, despite the circumstances. They could not wait to begin their training. However, what the professor had in mind for them was bound to disappoint.

"- A test?" Alex groaned. "You want us to take a test? But why?"

"- Do you really think you will only work on your powers here? It's supposed to be a school, so you'll learn everything that should be taught in a school, meaning English, maths, history, and so on."

"- I did not sign for this", the so-called 'Havoc' protested.

"- That will teach you to think before you act", Erik commented, earning himself a glare.

"- You'll start in half an hour", Charles added. "No cheating!"


	5. Training

Hello to all my readers, and welcome to Aisha! :)) Here, we are training our new mutant team. Problems ahead, as usual... I knew there was a good reason why I did not choose to become a teacher. Oh, and another famous codename makes an appearance.

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><p><strong>5 – Training Sessions<strong>

The results of the tests were not as disappointing as Charles had feared. Without surprise, he noticed that Alex was far behind the others when it came to sciences or history. He was not one for studies, this boy. But he would have to do some homework nonetheless, the professor decided. He did not think his students could make a living out of their powers.

Erik had accepted to help Charles and Hank teaching. McCoy, of course, would be in charge of the sciences lessons, while Charles, despite his curriculum, opted for English and history. Erik had required to teach some foreign languages to the students, and Sean and Raven had eagerly accepted.

Life began to settle in a routine after about a week, a kind of tense peace, but so time-consuming that neither Charles nor Erik had really to opportunity to complain.

Of course, all things could not go easily, for instance when Raven tried to reform Anya's sense of fashion – or rather, lack of, in that case.

"- Don't cut my hair!" Anya snapped.

"- But it's the top in fashion", Raven protested. "Look at Jackie Kennedy!"

"- I don't care about it. I'm flat as a chessboard, if you cut my hair, I'll just look like a boy."

Raven huffed and put her scissors down.

"- You already look like a boy", the shapeshifter countered. "I bet that apart from the hair, you are just like your father."

"- And I thought you found him handsome..." Anya growled.

"- Trouble in paradise, ladies?"

Erik's voice made both girls jump, and Raven blushed, which turned her blue cheeks to a curious shade of ultramarine. Anya merely rolled her eyes, and her father did not press the matter any further. He had to watch over Sean's training within ten minutes, and had better not be late. Anya followed him, curious to see how this first test would unfold.

# #

The red-haired mutant was sitting on a windowsill, his flying suit tied to his shoulders and wrists. No need to be a telepath to understand the poor boy was terribly afraid. Well, at least the fall would not be too high.

"- The wings, I'm okay with them", Sean complained. "But why these ridiculous stripes? I only lack the stars to look like Captain America, now."

"- They will make you easier to spot", Anya chimed in.

"- I'll be the only flying thing in the sky bigger than an owl. How hard would it be to spot me?" asked an incredulous Sean.

"- Easier to spot when... I mean, if you crash."

Charles groaned in dismay. The girl acted far too much like her father for her own good. He took his attention back to Sean as the lad crossed himself before jumping... As Erik had predicted, the fall was fortunately not high enough to cause damage. Alex went down in the garden to retrieve his friend, and carefully refrained from laughing out loud. He had not resolved his aiming issue yet...

Sean seemed fine, except for some bruises, and of course, he swore some colourful Irish curses when he spotted them.

"- Why didn't it work?" he raged.

"- It's too short", Anya pointed out.

"- What is?" grumbled Alex, trying to pick Sean up.

"- The drop. It's too short. You need to make him jump from a higher spot."

They had a perfect opportunity to test this suggestion the following morning. There was a huge satellite dish located about a mile from the house. Charles, Erik and Hank dragged poor Sean to the stairs leading to the top of the dish, despite his obvious reluctance.

From the mansion, the others mutants watched in amazement their friend taking flight in the sky, whooping with delight.

When he landed, though, he was not as pleased as they had expected. Anya was the first to 'interview' him.

"- So, what pushed you to jump?"

"- Your father."

"- Papa, honestly! What were you thinking?"

Erik shrugged helplessly. Charles was laughing hard behind his back.

"You're not helping", the metalbender groaned, which prompted only more laughter from the younger man.

They went back to the house still arguing, followed by Anya's amused, and slightly calculating, glance.

# #

Another week had passed. Alex had finally managed to master his power. Erik had been aghast when he had learnt that Charles had remained beside the boy's training target in order to motivate him. This had led to the most severe row the students had witnessed between the two men. They had cooled down soon after, but this argument had left at least Hank and Raven worried, though for different reasons. While the scientist feared the effects such quarrels could have on the youngest members of the team, Raven was planning to keep Lehnsherr in the house. She was pretty sure she would have the older man wrapped around her little finger sooner or later. She did not feel anything close to love for Erik, though. Flirting with him and maybe, eventually ending in his bed was more a way to prove herself as an adult. Surely Charles would not consider her a child any more after that.

Unfortunately, she made the mistake of asking Anya about her father's habits and tastes. When she understood the meaning of such a request, the girl voiced her opinion rather clearly, turned Raven's shower on ice-cold water for two days, and picked Sean as her new training partner.

Of course, Charles had to notice the sudden change in her behaviour.

"- You're not training with Raven today?" he asked her during a breakfast.

"- No."

"- Why?"

"- I don't feel like it any more." _And she wants to hop into my father's bed just to get back at you. Imagine how much I like this. He really doesn't need someone to use him again. And he already has you._

Charles coughed to disguise his embarrassment, then informed her Sean would be working with Hank in his laboratory for the day, and perhaps she would like to help him experiment as well.

"Right. May I go?"

Her father nodded and she promptly emptied her plate. A splash of water was heard as the sink started to fill on a snap of her fingers, then she disappeared in the corridor.

"- And don't touch anything without his permission!" Charles shouted after her.

"- Yes mum!"

Erik chuckled and his friend felt his ears burning. He must be a nice shade of red, he just knew it. Meeting Erik's amused look, the professor blushed even more, and promptly hid his face in his hands.

_Lord, just kill me already. Else I'll never hear the end of it._

Erik chuckled louder and bent to plant a quick kiss on Charles' head. Apparently, the telepath had unconsciously broadcast his thoughts.

He decided to drown himself in paperwork to escape more embarrassment. He had lessons plans to make, administrative papers to sign... It would be a repetitive, annoying work. Just perfect to forget what had just happened.

In the middle of that afternoon, Hank called the professor to his lab, and requested to bring Mr Lehnsherr as well. Both men headed for the lab wondering what their resident genius had invented this time.

"Nothing", Hank answered honestly. "But your girl proved she had more than one trick up her sleeve", he added for Erik.

A light clicking noise was ringing through the room, and they heard Sean whistling.

"Apparently", Hank said with a smile, "she inherited more than your looks."

He pointed to a metallic puppet running across the lab with a set of wires in its arms. The puppet climbed up a chair, then on the table, and dropped its cargo in front of Hank. The thing looked a bit like the tiny robot which appeared in some Donald Duck's comics, Charles thought. The puppet spun on its feet to face him and bowed. He laughed, while Erik was positively beaming with pride.

Anya hopped down from her stool, waved a hand, and the robot ran back to her to jump into her arms.

Of course, Sean decided they had to find a nickname ("Codename", he had protested. "It's a codename, damn it!") for her as well. She made it clear it would have nothing to do with her water-controlling abilities, as the resulting codename would most certainly turn out "stupid". What she left unsaid was she refused to be reminded of this particular power, as Shaw had done his worst to force her to develop it.

"- Well... magnets have two poles, right? What about Polaris?" Sean suggested.

"- I like it."

# #

After two weeks of intense training, Charles thought he could be proud of himself. All of his students had now an acceptable level of control on their powers, Erik included. It had taken a particular approach to get the distressed man to show his full potential, and almost cost the telepath an emotional breakdown, but the result had been worth it. Erik could do so much more than he imagined. To say Charles was fascinated was an understatement. He thought Erik's power was perfectly fitting his personality; he felt attracted to the other man just as a piece of metal would be.

Unfortunately, the wonderful time they had at the mansion was cut short by President Kennedy's speech. The Russians were bringing nuclear missiles to Cuba. Shaw was going to get his war.


	6. Philosophy

Hello readers ! Another "behind the scenes" chapter, between Charles and Erik. I'm glad I managed to remember some of my philosophy lessons from high school; they gave one of Charles' lines after all.

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><p><strong>6 – Monster Philosophy<strong>

A tense silence floated between the two men. The last words they had exchanged had left a sour taste in Charles' mouth. _Peace was never an option_, Erik had said. And to the telepath's near-terror, he was not lying. His friend had never considered anything beyond completing his task. Trying to reason with the metalbender would do no good, so Charles opted for another approach.

"At least, is it an option for your daughter?" he asked.

Erik narrowed his eyes.

"- What do you mean?"

"- If you start a war against humans, you will not be able to remain here, I hope you understand that. You would make the children the easiest target in all the United States. You will have to go from one place to another, you will be at risk every day. Will you bring your only child into this kind of life, or will you just abandon her here?"

That was low, Charles knew it, but he could not imagine another way to turn Erik from his murderous aims. If he did not change his mind for his daughter's safety, he would never do it at all. Of course, the telepath could have confessed his feelings for his friend, but the trick, no matter how true the feelings were, was overused, and Charles refused to make a fool of himself.

Erik, who had risen from his seat, turned and glared at him.

"- Under no circumstances I will abandon her", he snarled. "Don't use my child against me. I will not tolerate any blackmail from you, Charles."

"- It would be blackmail if Anya herself was using this argument. I am merely pointing a fact. Just... think about it."

_And pray Shaw never discovers she's yours. Else __he__ will use her against you_.

"Thanks for the advice, Charles."

He paused, then added:

"-There will be no peace between humans and mutants. Even you must know that."

"- So far, the only man to treat mutants as cheap tools and lab rats was a mutant himself", Charles answered as calmly as he could. "And don't tell me you have never met some decent human beings. It would lead to the conclusion that all the poor souls that died because of Shaw and his allies deserved their fate."

Erik's jaw clenched, but he managed to remain still.

"- One last thing", the professor added as Erik had his hand on the doorknob. "As you are German, I hope you are familiar with Nietzsche."

"- Which part of his philosophy?"

"- _Whoever fights with monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process.  
>And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you"<em>, Charles quoted. "I think it fits you perfectly."

To his credit, Erik did not slam the door behind him.

Charles waited for a while before leaving the library and heading for the kitchen. He needed some warm milk and a drop of honey to help him sleep. Tomorrow he would... He did not wish to think about tomorrow. It would be the day he lost Erik Lehnsherr, either because Shaw would kill him, or the metalbender would commit one murder too many. His head and heart felt like they would burst.

# #

Two hours later, a fuming Raven was sitting on her bed, trying to understand how she had failed to seduce Lenhsherr. He had said he liked her blue form. That he even admired it. But she guessed it was only at an intellectual level. The kiss he had given her was merely for "good luck". He had had the nerve to tell her so.

Why could she never get what she desired?

# #

After he had gotten a glimpse of Azazel's red skin and demon-like appearance in his students' minds, Charles had thought nothing could shock him any more. At that time, though, he could not know he would meet a full-grown, naked Raven in his kitchen. Her decision to assume her true form seemed a bit rushed, but he was glad she was able at last to accept herself. Erik's frankness was sometimes more effective than the professor's diplomatic, soothing speech. This way she would not experiment Hank's serum on herself. Charles was extremely wary of the scientist's theories; whenever you had a special mutation, be it a power or a disease, you could not reverse it and change your whole DNA with a single shot. The process would require a long treatment, as mutated cells would reproduce at a very high rate.

He was reaching his bedroom when he noticed something white standing in the corridor. A little girl in a nightshirt was staring at him. This apparition was so unexpected that Charles first believed it was a ghost until he recognized Anya's wiry frame.

"- What are you doing up so late?" he gently admonished. "You should be asleep by now. We're all getting up early tomorrow morning."

"- Is he going to leave me here?"

Charles felt like a fist had just crushed his heart. How could she know of that? Had she eavesdropped his discussion with Erik?

"I did not!" she replied, slightly indignant, when he asked. "He came to talk a bit, two hours ago. I know he's going to kill Shaw, and he has every right to do so, but what will happen after that? What will happen to us?"

Suddenly she stopped acting like an adult and she seemed to shrink down in her nightshirt, for once looking exactly like the twelve-year-old she was. A sob escaped her thin lips, then another, and soon tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't want... him to leave again", Anya hiccuped. "Mother left me because I was a freak. Why is he leaving me all alone?"

Charles knelt beside her and carefully wrapped his arms around her. He said nothing at first and just [bercer] her against his chest. When her sobs finally calmed down, he rose and picked her hand.

"- Listen to me; I'll do my best to prevent your father from leaving, but if I fail, I promise you'll never be alone, no matter what I have to do. No way we're throwing you out. You'll stay here, and I swear I'll take care of you."

"- You're nice, prof. But I'd like it better if you did not fail."

Charles nodded wordlessly. He would like that better too. So far, though, he could not imagine how he would convince Erik to change his views, as his last try had been another failure.

# #

Meanwhile the Agency did not rest idly. After some research, the agents had found the perfect vehicle for their newest team. Of course, it was still a prototype and the scientists working on it had been reluctant to let it go, but they had finally relented.

"It will get them to Cuba in no time", they had promised.

Director McCone took one last look to the plane, nicknamed 'Blackbird' by its creators, and smiled. It looked more like a science-fiction rocket than a common plane, but it was oddly fitting, he mused. If that thing was only half as fast as the white coats pretended, the mission would be one of the shortest he had ever witnessed. He would send McTaggert with the mutant team in order to obtain the most objective report possible. No doubt the President would want to hear about it... if they succeeded.

"- So, ready to go, McTaggert?"

"- As much as I can, sir. Truth be told, I am not that eager to meet with Mr Shaw."

She paused, thoughtful.

"I'll need one last interview with Miss Frost for some more details", she added.

The director nodded his consent, and McTaggert went down to the Ice Queen's cell.

The blonde was waiting for her, leaning against the glass panel. A coy smile played on her lips when she felt the agent approach.

"- Agent McTaggert. So kind of you to pay me a visit. I bet you have many questions in store."

"- Indeed. I think you know your Mr Shaw won't come to bail you out. He has more pressing business to attend, after all", Moira smirked.

"- You're one snarky little bitch, when you want", Frost commented. "I wonder how much the dear professor likes this."

Moira raised her gaze on the telepath. She met Emma Frost's cold blue eyes, and everything faded to black.


	7. Through a Glass, Darkly

Hello readers! Another chapter for you, and I hope you will like it. Comments are welcome, as usual, even the nasty ones, as long as they're just not saying "you suck".

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><p><strong>7 – Through a Glass, Darkly<strong>

22nd of October, 1962...

John McCone was staring at the calendar on his desk. Within some minutes he would leave the CIA headquarters in Langley to join the emergency meeting called by the President, with the head officers of the Navy, the Air Force and the Army. Oh, and that pain in the ass known as William Stryker Sr.

"- No news from our team?" he asked one last time to his assistant.

"- No sir, I'm sorry. No contact with the Blackbird for the last fifteen minutes."

"- God help us all", McCone muttered before leaving his office.

While the director left, in other area of the headquarters, Dr Pendrell was trying to distract his new charge from the grim atmosphere that had settled over the building. He was close to giving up. Anya Lehnsherr was not a stupid kid, and Pendrell started to curse her father for leaving her under the Agency's guard for the duration of the mission. Then, the child could not have remained alone in Xavier's house; it would not have been safe.

# #

Far away from Langley, the Blackbird had crashed on a tropical beach, its smoking, torn form a violent contrast to the peaceful landscape. Six people staggered out of the destroyed plane, none of them seriously injured.

Hank was muttering some choice curses and planning revenge on Riptide for damaging his creation, while Alex took an appreciative look to the submarine lying on the sand, somewhat folded over itself.

"You sure they're still alive in there?" he asked Charles.

The professor focused during some seconds and nodded.

"All of them."

As if on cue, Angel, Riptide and Azazel exited the submarine and lined up, facing the CIA team.

"Erik, you go inside, Shaw is still there; we will distract the others."

It had worked so well, Charles would reflect later, even a bit too well. He had known that, at some point, he would have to slither into Shaw's mind, but nothing could have prepared him for the revulsion he felt when he did so.

Without the helmet, it was remarkably easy to break into the man's thoughts. He had relied too heavily on this protection and had never properly trained to repel a mental attack.

"_- So, Mr Xavier, I presume?"_ Shaw's sarcastic voice echoed in Charles' mind. "_I can't say I am pleased to meet you."_

"_- The feeling is mutual"_, Charles growled back.

"_- If you don't like being in there - and I know you don't - why don't you release me?"_

" _I don't think so."_

"_- It was not a suggestion, Mr Xavier"_ Shaw snapped. _"Release me."_

"_- Make me",_ the younger man taunted. _"The sooner it is done, the sooner I'll be rid of you. You know you're going to die, right?"_

"_- Someone like you would never stoop so low as to agree with murder, Mr Xavier."_

Shaw seemed a little unsure. Charles rushed in the breach.

"_You plan to turn the world into a nuclear wasteland. You killed one of my students, used children for your experiments, tortured my friend... I think I __will__ stoop that low."_

The silent conversation ended abruptly when Shaw turned his attention back to Erik. His former test subject was holding a certain coin in his hand. Charles could suddenly feel Shaw's fear rushing through his own veins. Now the man did know he was going to die. And Charles would go with him all along the way. Since Shaw's power allowed him to regenerate his body, the telepath could not let him go. No matter the pain he would feel.

Shaw was screaming in Charles' mind while the silver coin slowly flew towards him.

The telepath had no words to describe what happened next. He could _feel_ the coin progressing as if it was carving its way through his own brain, breaking bones, severing neural connections, cutting arteries... Charles screamed in agony again and again, until his throat was sore, begging for the pain to stop. A heart slowed down... his own?

Then, nothing.

The connection vanished.

Sebastian Shaw was dead.

For some minutes after this ordeal, Charles could not think properly. Everything was a blur: colours, smells, sounds. He tried to erase the dying man's last sensations from his mind. He could even imagine the taste of blood on his tongue, then realized he had bitten his cheek in the process, causing an effective bleeding. He staggered out of the plane, his ears ringing, his joints stiff and painful. He felt frozen, as if his lungs and heart had turned to ice.

_So that's how death feels... _

He let himself fall on the ground, too dizzy to remain standing.

When he looked up, he discovered Shaw's corpse hanging in the air like a broken puppet. Erik, now wearing Shaw's metal helmet, unceremoniously dropped the body on the sand and turned to face the HellFire Club.

# #

"Yes, they have a mutation! And so? They could be Martians and have green skin with little pink stars, for all I care! They have stopped this madman ! The Russians have destroyed their own missiles transporter. Isn't that enough for you?"

Several high-ranking officers were staring at the unusual picture in front of them: John Alexander McCone yelling at the top of his lungs at one William Stryker Sr. The head of the CIA was a very composed man, most of the time, but Stryker's suggestion to vitrify the beach where those 'mutants' were standing had finally made him snap. Most officers were a bit wary about those new humans and truth be told, some of them felt rather incredulous, and others were slightly afraid. If such powers were real, those guys could prove a more dangerous threat than the Soviet Union. But then, had they not just prevented a war?

"Director McCone, please sit down", a strained voice said from the other side of the room.

McCone promptly obeyed. You did not want to cross that man.

"- You said there were children on that beach?"

"- Yes, sir. Two of the boys are indeed under legal age, one is twenty-two, and the other three are not much older. Please consider that one of them has a child. And that we still have an agent on that island."

Some officers grumbled their approbation. Stryker was losing the game and he knew it. Thanks God he had been smart enough to keep one last card up his sleeve.

It took McCone less than ten minutes to convince the President to abort any attack on the beach. Stryker stormed out of the conference room, ready to enable the last part of his plan. Whatever Kennedy could say, those monsters would be eliminated.

# #

"Tell me I'm wrong, Charles."

Erik was just begging for an opportunity to unleash his powers on the fleet.

Charles, still sitting in the sand, projected his mind towards the ships. To his intense relief, he found the crews and guns at stand by. They had received orders from the highest level of the command chain.

When he answered Erik, the other mutant seemed quite surprised, shocked even. He had expected them to fire. He could not imagine mere humans leaving them in peace. Charles was beginning to relax when a stray thought caught his attention. The young man felt an icy grip crushing his chest.

"- Oh Lord...", he breathed.

"- Troubles ahead?" Erik asked, ready to act.

"- Stryker sent some of his men on those ships. And they were ordered to open fire, no matter what."

"- I zink ve should leave", the red teleporter said. "Zeems safer."

"- Why don't we fight them ?" Riptide opposed. "No way we're going to run from that scum like scared rabbits!"

"- And what for?" Charles yelled. "What do you expect to achieve? Who will carry on with the plan?"

No one answered. Azazel smirked. Ritpide took one step forward, hands raised, but Charles interfered again.

"Sebastian Shaw is dead! Isn't that enough?" he bellowed.

At his words, Moira McTaggert's face suddenly went blank. She grabbed her gun and aimed at the two mutants in front of her.

The first shot glanced against Shaw's helmet. Erik raised his hand, deflecting the bullets away from the group of injured teenagers. One grazed his arm, and he partially lost his focus on the remaining pieces of metal. Another one completely escaped his control and flew behind him... just as Charles was getting up.

Erik heard someone crying in pain, Raven's horrified gasp, Alex swearing... He turned, and he felt like the world was crashing down on his shoulders when he discovered Charles lying on the sand, clawing at his lower back.

As the mutants turned towards Moira in anger, her eyes suddenly rolled, showing the white, and she collapsed on the sand, her limbs twitching. Angel screamed in horror.

"- My God, what is _that_?" Sean gasped.

"- Smells like Frost", Azazel spat.

"- Hank, Raven, check the radio!" Erik yelled. "Call anyone you want, as long as they send help! Azazel, can you transport them on the nearest ship?"

"- Zis is not a good idea. If I move 'im, I'll zurely damage 'im more."

"- HANK! MOVE YOUR LAZY ASS!"Alex bellowed.

Erik did not listen any more. He was frantically checking Charles' wound, trying to stop the blood flowing from his lower back. The younger man was barely conscious, whimpering in pain. The metalbender applied a hand against the wound and felt the bullet react to the magnetic field he projected. The dented piece of metal came out of the flesh, prompting another cry from Charles.

"I'm sorry", Erik whispered, trying to use the iron in the other man's blood to keep it inside his veins. "I'm sorry it hurts so much. Please, don't leave..."

He would have said "me", but not with all those ears straining to hear.

"Us", he finished.

He carefully laid Charles on the ground, and in a sudden fit of rage, took the helmet off and tossed it away, not caring if he was making himself an easy target.

Riptide would have taken the opportunity to dispose of both the telepath and his friend, but a sonic wave sent him back sprawling on the ground.

"- Some people never know when to stop", Sean growled.

"-THEY'RE ANSWERING!" Hank shouted from the debris of the Blackbird.

"- THEY'RE SENDING A TEAM RIGHT NOW!" Raven added.

Five minutes later, Angel spotted a boat heading towards the beach. Alex and Sean started calling out for the crew. Another six minutes, and the medical team landed near the destroyed submarine. The doctor and sailors remained rooted on the spot for a moment, speechless.

"- What did they put in the food this morning?" someone asked in a bewildered voice.

"- Don't know", the doctor groaned, "but now, I think I have really seen everything. So, where are our casualties? Ah, here is one..." he muttered, kneeling at Charles' side. "Nature of the injury?"

"- He was shot in the back, sir", Erik answered, trying not to stammer.

"- Shit! That doesn't look good. And the other?"

"- A seizure", Hank responded. "She lost consciousness several minutes ago."

"- Okay, we're taking them to exams and surgery. We'll be back for you in no time."

"- No need for that", Raven assured. "Azazel will take us on board, right?"

"- Da, da..." the teleporter sighed. "Vich ship?"


	8. Wait

**8 – And my Wait Begins...**

They waited until the deck was cleared to teleport on the ship.

With a 'bamf' and a puff of red smoke, the rest of the group and Azazel appeared on the deck, startling the crew.

"Guns down!", the commander quickly ordered. "No one's missing, sir?"

Erik, the helmet firmly tucked under his arm, checked the mutants clustered together. They were all here, an unconscious Riptide included. Azazel unceremoniously dropped his colleague on the floor.

"You'd better lock zis one up", he advised with a nasty smile.

Two sailors took the hint and Riptide as well, and dragged him below decks. Angel followed him soon.

"Do you have any other injuries to report?", the captain asked.

Then he took a better look at the whole group and sighed.

"- O-kay... All of you, to the infirmary. Right now."

"- But..." Alex started.

"- No buts. You're all in pretty bad shape, and since you're on my ship, you do as I say, young man!"

They were too tired to argue and complied, even Azazel who was now walking slightly in zigzags. Maybe Hank had hit him a bit too hard.

"- My apologies for being a bit late in retrieving you", the officer added as he followed them, "but as it happens, we found several guys disguised as sailors trying to fire some of the guns, right before you called for help. Bastards are now in a cell. Do you happen to know them?"

"- Not personally", Erik answered tiredly, but I would bet on rogue CIA agents... who will find themselves unemployed as soon as McCone hears about it."

"- Serves them right."

Minutes later, the group was lined up on a bench near the infirmary, waiting for a doctor or a nurse ("Yes please", Alex had pleaded, "a nurse would be perfect", much to the others' endless shame). There were troopers keeping an eye on them, but they did not seem hostile. More... curious, Erik guessed. Many of them were young men, who had most likely seen their first battle on this very day. The US Navy manual most certainly did not include power-hungry, energy-absorbing mutants trying to start a nuclear world war.

"- So... you guys have some kind of... powers, right?", a brown-haired, freckled sailor tentatively asked.

"- Yep", Alex answered shortly.

"- And what can you do, exactly?"

He looked like someone who had picked the shortest straw in a bet. Judging from the curious heads carefully poking through a door at a rather safe distance from the group of mutants, it was most certainly the case.

"- I produce ultrasonic waves", Sean began, "that break glass..."

"- You still owe me a mirror, by the way", Raven cut in.

"- Thanks for the reminder. And they allow me to fly. Alex, well, you've all seen him. Hank, here, is our strongest and smartest guy..."

"- Thanks for the professor, you ass", Hank muttered.

"- … Currently awake, let me finish, will you? Raven is a shapeshifter..."

"- Wicked", someone commented from the next room.

"- Then you have Mr Lehnsherr over there, who controls magnetic fields."

"- And metals, then", the sailor added. "Wow, that's a gift many soldiers would like to have. That would save the doc some time."

Sean burst into nervous laughing, soon followed by Alex and Raven. Azazel chuckled and even Erik managed to crack a smile. Soon after, other crewmen began to poke their nose in the room, offering a cup of coffee and asking questions, before one of their officers barged in and ordered them to leave the poor guys - and lady – alone. A doctor arrived right on the officer's heels and picked Sean for an examination. He did not keep the young man very long, and the red-haired mutant came back to his friends after less than fifteen minutes.

"Just a sprained wrist, he says", Sean informed them, holding his bandaged hand. "Alex, your turn."

Alex went, and came back escorted by a young medic, who walked him to a bed.

"Two broken ribs", the man explained. "He'll need some rest. Miss Raven, please."

It went even faster for the young woman, who only suffered from some bruises. Hank sported minors cuts, but Azazel's condition worried the medical staff enough to put him in observation. His heartbeat was a bit too erratic and he could barely stand on his own.

# #

Erik entered the exam room with apprehension. He had not set foot in a doctor's office for... a very long time. He tried to reassure himself thinking the boys and Raven had come out just fine, but it did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach.

"- Good afternoon, Mr...?"

Erik nearly jumped out of his skin, so nervous he was. He managed to stammer his name and sit when the doctor requested it.

"So... let's have a look... Take off your shirt, please. Oh, come on, you have nothing I haven't seen before."

The man had to review his opinion soon after. He did not comment on the numerous scars that marked his patient's chest, nor on the six-digit number on his arm, but emitted a annoyed groan when he took a look at Erik's back.

"- No good, no good at all. Tell me, did someone toss you against a wall?"

"- Sort of. Why?"

"- It's like that someone painted your back in black and blue. You've earned yourself an x-ray, Mr Lehnsherr, and don't give me the usual nonsense."

In the end, Erik found himself in the infirmary with Alex and a sedated Azazel, with three cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a record number of cuts and bruises.

Alex had not heard anything new about the professor. Charles was still in surgery, and Moira remained unconscious.

# #

They had to wait five more hours before the surgeon was finally done with their friend and mentor. The man had barely stepped into the infirmary that the whole team, a sleeping Azazel excepted, clustered around him. The poor guy backed away from the group, hands raised defensively.

"Woah! Calm down! Your Mr Xavier is out of immediate danger."

A common sigh of relief escaped them.

"But, as his injuries were extremely serious, he will have to be closely monitored for at least two months. Thank God, his spine was not damaged, so we can expect him to walk again without too many issues."

Erik noticed his hands had been trembling only when they progressively stopped their incoherent moves. A metallic chair landed back on the floor with a sharp "clac".

"I would advise not to disturb him for some days. He's unlikely to wake up any time soon, by the way. He needs a lot of rest for a complete convalescence."

Sean grumbled disappointedly.

" You can come and see him, of course", the doctor added, "but do not try to wake him. It's all I ask."

They started to take shifts to watch over the professor. Erik came late at night, when the kids and Raven were asleep, and could not see his hands clasped around Charles', could not hear the words of love and comfort he said, barely above a whisper... Those things only belonged to the unconscious telepath laying on the bed. He did not know exactly when he had fallen for this... damned... adorable...lab rat! But man, had he fallen hard... Though he had forgotten how to do it, he wished he could pray. He would beg Adonaï, play the haggler with Him as Abraham had done, if necessary, if it meant Charles would live. The ghost of a smile played on his lips when he remembered the day Anya had called the professor 'Mum' in front of her father. Maybe it had been on that very day he had realized he was feeling more than friendship for the younger man. Truth came out of the mouth of children, after all...

# #

It was very early in the morning. The CIA headquarters were still silent. A lonely silhouette left the medical section, crossed some corridors, went down a lot of stairs, and headed for Emma Frost's cell. The blonde was already awake when her visitor arrived, and stood in front of the window to face the intruder.

"- 'morning, Emma", Anya Lehnsherr said in an emotionless voice.

"- Oh, look who's coming for a visit... Isn't that sweet?" Emma cooed. "What are you doing here, brat?", she asked in a much aggressive tone. "Shouldn't you be mourning someone by now? Your oh so stubborn father, or that rich fool of a kid who wants to play in my league like a grown-up?"

Anya merely raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Emma, but no one died except your beloved Mr Shaw. As it happens, my father managed to kill him. Isn't that sad? You've lost your boss. I dare say you have outlived your usefulness for the Agency. And you know, Azazel would so _love_ being rid of you..."

The child's eyes seemed as cold as steel. Shaw had made a weapon of her, as he had done with her father so many years ago. There was no sympathy to expect from her.

All it took was a small twisting gesture. Frost suddenly felt her throat tighten, as if a giant fist was squeezing it. Soon, she could not breathe and gasped for air. She tried to change into her diamond form, to no avail. She tried one last plea... Her murderer had already left the observation window.

And Emma Frost, who claimed to never feel lonely thanks to all the tricks her mind could play on mere humans, died alone.


	9. Leaving

**9 – Someone Leaves Tonight**

The hospital was somehow swarming with men in black, much to the staff's dismay. You could not expect the head of the CIA to travel without some of his guard dogs, though. As soon as he had heard of his team's return to the States, McCone had made the trip to Miami in order to get their report and check on them. The officer calling from Miami harbour had mentioned several people injured, after all...

On the second morning after his arrival, McCone went to the intensive care unit, poked his head through the door and sighed. Despite numerous warnings from the medical team, all Xavier's ducklings were still in the corridor, all of them sleeping on seats and benches, except one who kept vigil, waiting for some news. The sentinel was currently young Mr Cassidy. The poor boy was having a hard time remaining awake, and McCone took pity on him. He sat besides Cassidy and taped him on the shoulder.

"- Go get some rest. I'll warn you if there are new developments."

"- 'ank you sir."

The boy was asleep as soon as he lied down on a bench.

# #

_Charles was dreaming. At least, he assumed he was._

_How else could he explain the fact he was sitting in a cheap restaurant near a road, Erik in front of him, and Raven acting as the waitress_, _when the other part of the brain informed him he was most certainly lying in a bed?_

_There were so many people in that place, he noticed. Someone who suspiciously looked like his long-dead mother was sipping a brandy, dressed in her favourite red dress, and in the most remote corner of the room, he made out the tiny silhouette of a blond infant playing on the blue and white tiles of the floor. Was it Cassandra? Plenty of other men, women and children entered the place, drank, left... He frowned when he could not locate Moira. She should have been here. All the sentient beings he had met in his life were here. He had even spotted Anya chatting with Sean at the bar, but she had looked much older, and her belly was definitely... rounder. Had he caught a glimpse of her future?_

"_In a way", a familiar voice answered from the seat behind his._

_The whole scene seemed to freeze before his eyes as Charles turned to face Brent Spinner._

"_- How can you read my mind?" the young man asked, his curiosity awaken._

"_- This is a place of the mind, Charles. As you have noticed, all the souls you have ever met are here with you. Some of them in their present forms..."_

_He nodded to Erik._

"_- Others in future appearances. Those two love birds, for instance", he added gesturing to Anya and Sean, "will come to life, but only if you are here too."_

"_- What do you mean?"_

"_- You're in bad shape, my boy, I hope you know that. Let me warn you. If you die now, this will not happen", he gestured again to Anya's pregnant belly. "You are the glue that keeps them together. You will have to wake up, Charles, sooner or later."_

"_- You could not resist meddling in this, could you?"_

"_- Ah, I love playing guardian angel, my boy", Spinner admitted with a grin._

"_- You did just that when you were alive."_

"_- That's a job you can't really quit. But I think you don't need me any more. I have lingered in the in-between far too long already."_

_# #_

Between the journey back to Miami and the stay in the hospital itself, it took Charles five days to wake up from his coma. Hank was watching over him when he opened his eyes, and the first thing Charles saw was something blue and blurry. He groaned. What kind of nightmare was now on display in his mind ?

"Oh Lord..." Hank breathed.

The scientist bolted from his chair and threw the door open.

"He's awake!" he yelled. "He's awake."

Cheers erupted from the corridor, then Sean's voice.

"I'm calling the old man; that should make him smile."

Charles found himself lying on his left side. He tried to roll on his back, but Hank's strong hands kept him firmly in place.

"- Don't move", he advised. "You'll reopen your wound."

"- What... what is it?" Charles croaked.

"- Heavy damage on the right kidney, severe blood loss, right lung punctured... At least your spine is still intact. You'll be able to walk again in no time."

"- Good... How are... kids?"

Hank sighed.

"- They've been better, but none died. Alex, Sean and Raven are relatively fine. Angel and Janos were taken into custody, and Azazel is still in observation."

"- Moira?" Charles rasped. "Erik? Is Erik... all right?"

"- He was last time I checked. He was called back to Langley to report. They nearly had to drag him out of your room, though."

Charles smiled weakly.

"- Moira... Well, Frost planted some kind of command in her mind: if Shaw died, she would try and kill us. And she did, as you must have noticed."

"- Moira... _shot_ me?" the telepath repeated, incredulous and slightly offended.

"- Not on her free will", Hank amended. "She collapsed right after that, and had a sort of seizure. They brought her in this very hospital and called for a brain specialist and our Dr Pendrell too, but... we can't hope for much."

"- Ask Frost... she will know."

"- She's dead. According to McCone, someone crushed her throat. From the inside."

Charles wished he was still asleep. He could only think of one mutant able to perform such a kill. Whoever had said that hydrokinesy was a cheap trick was dreadfully wrong.

# #

One week after the battle on the beach, Moira McTaggert went completely unresponsive. A minor brain activity still existed, but she did not react any more to external stimuli. Doctor Pendrell estimated that it was now only a matter of hours before she left for good. Erik had ordered to send the kids away. Waiting for Charles to awake was one thing; standing vigil for a dying... friend was entirely another, and the children had already seen too much. He knew, thanks to Anya's meddling, that Raven still had nightmares about the unfortunate scientist Azazel had dropped right in front of their room in the CIA base. She did not need to watch Moira fading away.

Pendrell was not far off the mark. Eight days after the battle, Moira died.

The children cried, Erik knew, even though the boys tried to play tough. McCone hid his sorrow as well as he could, and Charles said absolutely nothing. Erik guessed he had tried to reach the agent's mind and come back empty-handed. The after-effects of Frost's manipulations had been rather terrifying, according to Pendrell's report. To feel them would have been... He'd rather not dwell on that.

Unsurprisingly, Charles insisted to be moved back home, though Pendrell was at first very reluctant to let him go. His injuries were healing according to plan, but the good doctor feared his patient might suffer from a relapse. Raven swore she would keep an eye - and more certainly two - on him, and Pendrell scheduled a nurse to visit every day for at least a month. Only after that would Charles be allowed to try and walk. The young man merely acknowledged the doctor's orders. After two weeks in the hospital, he was released and sent to Westchester with an impressive list of prescriptions. Painkillers, antibiotics... Pendrell would not take any chance with the professor's health. No doubt he did not wish to face the students' wrath in case an issue occurred.

The only thing Charles would not concede was Moira's funerals. He wanted to attend, and no one could talk him out of it. Two days after his release, he went to Arlington with Erik, Raven and all the other mutants, Hank excepted. The scientist had declared that his presence would lead to far too many questions, and that it was not the proper day to discuss mutations with Moira's parents.

Nor with her brother.

David McTaggert gave a good impression of what Alex could have become with a less chaotic childhood, Erik thought. The major difference came from the fact that his rebellious attitude was fuelled more by a spoilt life than real duress.

Standing besides his sister's grave, he was eyeing the whole group with suspicion, particularly Charles, for now sitting in a wheelchair, orders of Dr Pendrell. After the priest had said the final words, he walked towards the telepath.

"- Care to tell why you are here? I don't know you."

"- David, please..." his mother sighed. "They must be Moira's colleagues, no doubt. No need to be so rude."

"- Still, I would like to know what brings you here. So, you're from the Agency..."

"- More or less", Charles admitted in a dull voice. "We are more like a consulting group working for the CIA."

"- Can you tell me what happened to my sister, or are you going to be as obtuse as her boss?"

McCone coughed lightly behind them and nodded to Charles.

"- All I know is that she was injured during an operation", the young man stated, "most probably a bullet to the head, and nothing the surgeons tried could help her. Since I was injured the same day, about at the same time, I cannot tell you more."

David gave him a calculating look.

"Some help you are", he muttered before leaving.

Mrs McTaggert offered her apologies, and wished Charles a prompt recovery.

His civil mask fell after she left and he snapped at the poor chap who acted as their driver to get them the Hell out of there. The man was shaking so much that Erik wondered if they were going to make it to the mansion without an accident.

# #

Fortunately, nothing happened on their way back to Westchester and in the evening, everyone was safely back in his or her room. Erik had checked on his daughter – who was just as concerned for Charles as he was – and had picked a book, but he could not focus on it, and was nearly grateful when someone knocked on his door. He opened to find Hank waiting for him.

"The professor is in the library and would like a talk with you. Since he can't use his tricks too much right now, well, I'm playing the messenger", the scientist added at Lehnsherr's surprised look.

The metalbender nodded and went down the stairs, wondering what Charles could have in mind right now.

He found the telepath sitting in his usual armchair near the fireplace, where some logs were still burning. The chess set was still on the table in front of him, but the younger man made no indication that he wished to play.

"- Hank said you asked for me, professor."

"- No need to be so formal. What happened to you, for Heaven's sake?"

"- What do you mean, what happened to me? You're the one acting so cold and detached. I see the professor, now. Not Charles. Where is he, by the way?"

"- Answer my question."

His voice carried the order so effectively that Erik felt compelled to obey.

"- What happened?" Erik repeated, incredulous. "I almost killed you."

"- I don't remember you holding the gun", Charles countered. "You did not shoot me. You tried to deflect the bullets."

"- And I failed."

"- Did you know Emma Frost had brainwashed McTaggert?"

"- Of course not!"

"- Then I don't understand how it could be your fault. However, my lack of focus, which prevented me from detecting Moira's state of mind, was entirely your doing, if you really want some responsibility in this. Being in a dying man's mind is an experience I don't wish to try again."

Erik gasped in horror.

"- I can't understand why you submitted yourself willingly to such a pain. You could have left him as soon as... as I... began..."

"- With his powers, he would have healed his injuries, and then turned against you. I chose to face his death rather than yours."

The telepath waited for a comment, some sarcasm, but it never came. Instead, Erik knelt in front of him and bowed his head, his left cheek resting against Charles' knee. He heard a sharp intake of breath, but the younger man did not kick him away. He hoped it was not only because Charles' legs were too painful to move. Then Erik felt a hand running lightly through his hair, before resting on his neck.

"- And I think you know why", Charles added in a very low voice, sounding more alive than he had for the last four days.

"- I do... but I'd like to hear you say it."

"- My, my... aren't we demanding? But you're right. Nothing should remain unsaid on this topic."

Erik nodded.

"- So, in case you still doubted it: I love you, you fool. Whether you believe or not, I think it has been so since I had to fish you out of Miami harbour."

"- Not my smartest move, I must admit", Erik laughed, relieved to find some humour in Charles again. "Good Lord, that would make the second time you save my life", he added. "How can I ever repay you?"

Charles closed his eyes, as if deep in reflection.

"I have several ideas, but you could first help me to get back to my room. I can barely walk and the chair won't climb the stairs by itself."

Thanks every deity on Earth that the telepath would only need that annoying thing for some more days. Moving through the house had turned a real nightmare for him.

Erik let Charles put his arm around his shoulders for support, then gently lifted him from his seat. As soon as he stood up, the professor groaned in pain and his legs nearly gave way under him. He would not even be able to reach the stairs.

But he could be stubborn, as Erik could testify, and he just fought his way to the stairs, one step after the other. It left him panting, shaking like a leaf and unable to utter a word. When he looked up, the young man sighed and shook his head.

"- Too high", he said.

"- I'll help."

Charles had no time to react before the older man slid a arm around his shoulders, the other under his knees, and scooped him up in his arms.

"- Release me! If someone sees us..."

"- Don't worry. It's late, they're tired and they are sleeping."

They climbed up the stairs rather slowly and when they reached the last step, Charles asked to be put down. He was blushing so much that the colour of his cheeks was clashing awfully with the black of his jacket.

"- Thank you very much. But I'll manage from here, I think."

"- If you say so... I should hate you", Erik added after a while.

"- Why?"

Charles was only curious, not worried.

"- You destroyed everything I held for certain", Erik explained. "You broke the protection I had built around myself during all these years. You made me feel weak, exposed... You made me need you. I was furious, on the evening we met, because part of me believed you were responsible for Shaw's escape. Of course I took some time to think about it, but... Do you know how hard it was for me?"

"- I can only imagine. Watching you going down to Hell again was not pleasant for me either."

"- But we're through with that."

"- Yes. We're through."


	10. Echo

Hola! I hope my readers are all fine, and that they will like this new chapter, where we meet another character, none too friendly, I'm afraid. Have fun !

* * *

><p><strong>10 – an Echo from the Past<strong>

It was the first week of December. Under Dr Pendrell's constant care, Charles' health had steadily improved, and he could know take small walks in the garden, though leaning on a cane. He had lost some weight during the past month, and if he was merely thin before his injury, he was now so skinny that his friends were afraid he would break.

He was working again on his project of an institute for "gifted" children, along with Erik. Both men had arranged for the children to come back home for Christmas, at least for those who still had a home and family. Sean's parents had insisted to pick their son at the mansion and meet his new teachers. Alex's mother, upon learning that her son could control his talent, had accepted to take him for a week. Her husband would not have allowed more. Hank's father had been a trifle reluctant when he had first heard of his son's complete mutation, but had relented in the end and would come to fetch him at the mansion. Only Charles, Erik, Raven and Anya would remain. Maybe by then Azazel would have located Petra and Nicolaï, the last surviving "test subjects" Shaw had captured in Russia, and brought them. And if luck was truly with them, Angel Salvadore would have been released from jail. As she was under age and had not killed anyone during her brief time with Shaw, it was quite likely she would be put back under Charles' guardianship.

In the meantime, the professor was facing a huge amount of paperwork. He had to submit a lot of requests to be allowed to open his school on next fall; even after enlisting Erik and Hank's help, he was still neck-deep in administrative files.

In the middle of this buzzing activity, they received an unwanted visitor.

# #

The 'headmasters' were working on a more practical training room when Raven entered the study with a face to sour fresh milk.

"- Charles? Cain Marko is here."

"- What the hell does he want?"

Erik blinked. Charles did not swear often, if ever.

"- He asked for the current owner of the house", Raven sighed. "As if you were dead... You'd better go and see him."

The telepath grabbed his cane and went to the main door.

"- We'd better follow him."

"- Who is this Cain Marko?" Erik asked.

"- Charles' step-brother", Raven answered shortly.

She noticed the deepening frown on his face and quickly added:

"- We did not hide crucial intelligence. It's just... He's not the kind of relative you want to brag about."

"- If you say so... What is he like?"

"- You'll find soon enough."

And soon enough indeed, Erik found himself sharing Raven's distaste for the man. Cain Marko was a huge guy, broad-shouldered, with close-cropped dark hair and an almost malevolent look while he was talking to Charles. The telepath seemed so frail in front of him...

"- Well", Charles was saying, "I am sorry to disappoint. Rumours of my death have been, once again, greatly exaggerated."

"- I will wait", Marko assured.

"- You will wait for the rest of your life, and it won't change a thing. Raven comes before you, and there are a lot of people living here that will come before you as well. So don't fret too much, _brother_."

Marko shot a glance to Erik and Raven standing behind Charles in the hall.

"- Oh, I see... Sweet sister and... who's that? Your boyfriend?"

Erik growled. It would be so easy to pick some buttons on that jerk's suit, melt them into a ball and ram it through his skull.

"My associate", Charles answered icily. "Now, be kind enough to remove your person from my doorstep, thank you very much."

He took a step backwards, and slammed the heavy door to Marko's face. Raven went to a window to watch Cain walk back to his car.

"So...", she shrugged, "that went well."

Erik was not so sure about it. When he went back to work, he noticed Charles had withdrawn again, and barely answered his friend's suggestions about the new training room. The telepath was so out of it that he nearly jumped from his chair when Erik's hand covered his and took the pen from his fingers.

"- No more work for now. Tell me what's wrong."

"- Nothing. Everything. I had hoped he would never set foot in this house again."

Charles' eyes were unfocused and his breathing did not come out easily.

"- Some chess to change your mind?" Erik suggested.

"- If it works for you, it should work for me as well."

It was certainly the worst game they had ever played. None of them was really into it. Erik was distracted by his concern for Charles' mental well-being and the telepath seemed to be leagues away from the library. Finally, the younger man dropped the bishop he was holding on the board.

"- It's useless", he sighed.

"- Could you tell me? You helped me even when I did not ask, maybe I could return the favour?"

"- I'm not going to tell you", Charles said.

Without warning, Erik found himself in a blank space, with several doors around him. Charles was standing near one of them, his hand on the handle.

"Welcome into my mind. It's better if you see by yourself."

And he opened the door.

_He was standing in the library. The room looked exactly like its present appearance. The first thing he noticed was a very young Charles sitting on the carpet, a book opened on his knees, reading. The scene seemed peaceful, but it reeked of loneliness. It was ten in the evening and the boy's parents had still not bothered to check if he was in his bed._

_The door creaked open and a maid came to take the book out of Charles's hands._

"_- You should not be up so late", she admonished._

"_- I was just waiting for my parents", he answered._

"_- They will not come back before one in the morning. All good little boys are asleep at this time."_

_And Charles wanted to be a good boy, so he went to sleep without seeing his parents... as usual. _

The next sequence, Charles was about ten, Erik estimated.

_He was looking at his mother with a saddened expression on his face. The woman was sprawled on a couch, barely keeping her grip on her glass of scotch. She threw a look of pure contempt to her son._

"_Should have had a girl", she slurred. "A nice little girl with blond curls... Wait... I had a girl... you killed her, you killed your sister, you little monster."_

_Charles fled._

"- A sister?" Erik repeated.

"- A twin", Charles answered in a monotone voice. "Stillborn. According to Spinner, I could have died too. Too many parties, too many cigarettes, too much alcohol and too much stress while our mother was pregnant. But it was easier for her to say it was all my fault."

_They switched to another picture. Mrs Xavier was introducing Charles and Raven to a tall, bulky man and a teenager who was certainly Cain Marko. The man must be the older Marko, Charles' stepfather. _

"_- And I am sure you will all get along wonderfully", Sharon Xavier concluded in a cheerful voice._

_None of the three children looked convinced by her statement._

_Then Erik found himself in a bathroom, where a thirteen-year-old Charles tried to clean the bleeding cuts on his back. He also had a purple bruise on the left side of his face. Other bruises of various colours covered his arms and chest._

"- My stepfather did not like me much", Charles commented. "As you can guess."

"- He did that... often?"

"- Once or twice a week", the telepath shrugged.

Erik could distantly feel him trembling as he spoke. What could have triggered such an aggressive reaction against the boy?

"I existed", Charles muttered. "I was in Cain's way, for the house and such... And then, Marko could not keep his hands to himself, so..."

Erik had hardly begun to formulate a thought when his friend's voice cut it.

"Not what you imagine."

_They were now before the door of the late Mr Xavier's study. Angry voices came through the door, Charles and Mr Marko yelling at each other. Then Erik heard a slap, someone knocking violently into the desk, a cry of pain... and silence, broken now and then by another blow or the snapping sound of a strained joint. _

_Marko went out after what seemed an eternity. Erik heard some scrapping noises, then nothing for several minutes. The door finally creaked open, and Charles crawled out of the room. He tried to get back on his feet and it took him several attempts before he managed to rise to an unstable standing position. Blood was pouring from his nose and his right arm was hanging limply like a rubber glove, useless. He could not even breathe properly as several of his ribs had been broken. One hesitant step after the other, he dragged himself along the corridor, leaving a trail of tiny scarlet drops behind him. _

"On that day, I ended in the hospital with four broken ribs, a punctured lung and a fractured arm, not to mention cuts, bruises and other minor things...", Charles said. "I stayed in the hospital for two months. When I came back home, Kurt Marko had left. I suspect Spinner blackmailed him, but of course, my mother assumed it was all my fault again and never forgave me until she died."

As he spoke, tears started to run down his cheeks. He turned away and hid his face in his hands.

Erik was terrified by this sudden reversal of their usual roles. Most of the time, he would rant and snarl at the whole world, and Charles would bring some comfort, some kind understanding. Now that the telepath was sobbing his soul out on Erik's shoulder, the older man was completely lost. He gingerly wrapped his arms around his friend's thin frame and tentatively tried to rub his back. Apparently, it was the good thing to do, since Charles began to calm down. He sagged against Erik's chest and remained there, taking deep breaths to settle his nerves.

They remained this way for a long time, hours maybe, each one taking solace in the other.

"Tsk, tsk... So careless..."

Both men nearly fell from the couch, and looked up to find Anya leaning against the door, smirking.

"You two are really nice, but you should try to be more... discreet, you know."

Charles paled visibly.

"- Parents, I swear..." Anya sighed, before leaving two stunned adults alone.

"- Did she just call us 'parents'?" Charles repeated.

"- I heard the same thing. She does not seem adverse to this prospect."

They shared a relieved smile.

# #

Their optimism about parenthood was put to test two days later when Azazel came back to the mansion with Petra Abkarian, the partial telepath Shaw had tried to train. It appeared quickly that the thirteen-year-old girl was prone to mischief, and even more when associated with Anya. Charles had known he would need a good supply of patience with his pupils, but these two alone would drain it faster than he had planned.


	11. Life as We Know It

And here things are getting a little bit warmer... ;p

* * *

><p><strong>11 – Life as we Know It<strong>

As December went on, the inhabitants of the mansion looked more and more like a rather unusual, but mostly functional family. Of course no one would have dared to call Erik 'Dad' within earshot or even _think_ of the professor as 'Mum', but Anya's long-running joke was confirmed with each passing day. Alex had also learnt that if it was okay for Anya and Petra to grant Azazel all sorts of nicknames, he was definitely not allowed to use them. Even though the red-skinned mutant liked being considered as a kind of distant and eccentric uncle, he would never forgive the public use of 'Zaz' to address him. Annoyed as he was by this lack of respect, the teleporter left again just before the beginning of the holidays.

Charles was pleased to notice that Anya and Sean seemed to get closer each day. He did not know how to broach the topic with Erik, but the metalbender was the first to talk about it.

"- It's a good thing she has at least one close friend who was not trained by Shaw, someone her age who can listen to her problems, or share her hobbies. I'm a bit too old for that, now, and I'm not exactly a reference when it comes to teenager activities."

"- You're right. You may need a club, though, within three or four years", Charles commented.

"- What?" Erik gasped.

"- A club. You know, the big stick with..."

"- I know what a club is. But why would I need one?"

"- To keep Sean away from your daughter."

Erik just smiled and shook his head.

"He knows not to cross me. I could teach him another way to fly, after all."

_As if Anya would really need any help with that_, Charles thought.

He dropped the topic and did not broach it again. He had more pressing matters to attend.

# #

Finding new mutants would take longer than usual, he estimated. As long as Cerebro was not rebuilt, they could only rely on chance encounters. Hank had estimated he would need at least a whole year before he could provide a new device, even with Erik's help. Charles had been disappointed at first, then realized that a year without any new student would be beneficial to his newborn institute. His first team would be completely adapted by then and his health would have improved. With any luck, he would also have completed all the paperwork needed to officially open the school. He was confident this matter would be settled before the end of next spring.

Before this blessed event, though, the self-appointed headmaster had another duty he could not skip. He had to meet with his students' family at the beginning of Christmas holidays.

# #

Sean's parents appeared on Xavier's doorstep on the 22nd of December. 'Banshee' had obviously inherited a lot from his mother, a thin, red-haired woman who seemed to hold her husband on a rather short leash. They seemed both pleased to know their son had learnt to control his gift (replacing mirrors and windows could get costly after a while) and were amazed when Charles described all the applications the school had found for it. Both were also relieved when the professor assured them that Sean would receive the same education as in a regular high school.

All things considered, the interview went really well and when Sean left the mansion with his parents, Charles was sure the young man would come back at the end of the holidays without raising any issue.

"One done, two to go", Erik muttered.

He had requested not to meet his students' families, at least for this year. He was still a bit ill-at-ease with 'normal' people, but from Charles' perspective he was improving.

The next day came Mrs Summers, Alex's mother, with her younger son. Mr Summers had not made the trip from New York, apparently considering the matter as completely unimportant.

# #

Alex's infant brother was sitting in his mother's lap, gurgling happily. He had light brown hair and blue eyes, and was remarkably quiet for such a young child in an unknown environment.

"- How old is he?" Charles asked.

"- He's two", Mrs Summers answered. "It always comes as a surprise, I know. I was very young when Alex was born and his father... was not of the responsible type, unfortunately, and he left me to deal with the pregnancy. I remained alone with my son for several years, then I got married with John Summers... and Scott was born."

Charles nodded. He wondered if the mutation had passed from the father or the mother. Well, they would know for sure if young Scott manifested a gift of some sort. He did not mention that fact to the anxious mother in front of him. She was nervous enough to know one of her sons was a bit 'special'; Charles did not need to add to her fears. He could feel them too easily. She was afraid Alex would hurt his little brother, afraid her husband would ask a divorce if Scott turned to be a mutant too... He did his best to reassure her, and when she left with both her boys, she appeared a little more confident.

Mr McCoy the elder came in the evening of the 23rd and was not much of an issue, since he did not even leave his car. Charles was seriously tempted to plant a lecture on good manners in his head but finally relented, admitting that it would do no good to anger Hank's father more against mutants.

# #

And there were only the five of them in the house, since Azazel had left again for God knew where. A weird group, Charles thought. A man and his daughter, the surrogate father she had chosen, a kind of foster sister and a foster aunt. An unusual combination to have at home, but Charles' family had never felt really normal, not since his father had died. The telepath quickly discarded the idea. He had more pressing matters to attend, such as finishing the packages for his friends' Christmas gifts. Alex, Hank and Sean had left with theirs and would open them on the following morning. He hoped they would like the selection of books and sweets he had offered. He knew Hank and Sean had a rather huge sweet tooth and would enjoy the Belgian chocolates he had found in New York.

On the morning of the 25th, the five inhabitants of the house were gathered around the tree. Raven happily started to unwrap her presents and squealed in delight when she found an enrolment for a famous dance studio in New York, courtesy of her brother. The next gift was a pocket mirror and even if it was anonymous, she knew that Erik was likely the sender. The boys and Anya had picked small pieces of cheap but colourful jewellery she immediately put on.

Petra had not been in the house long enough for the other inhabitants to know her well, so they had safely opted for popular novels and a box of chocolates. The teenager approved, and immediately started to read.

Charles found himself with a book on chess strategy which could only come from Erik and, since he was still on physical therapy, the rest of the household had paid a contribution to offer him a nicely crafted cane, far more elegant than the plastic crutch he was currently using. The professor was delighted with the new walking stick, more comfortable to use than the previous one, and fitting his personality much better.

Anya opened her first package, took a look at it, and ran to her room to put on the dress her 'mum' had bought her. She came back minutes later clad in a knee-length blue-green dress, and ran to Charles to plant a resounding kiss on his cheek.

"It's beautiful. Hey, I even look like a decent girl in that!"

She twirled on the carpet, laughing, then went back to the tree and picked up Sean's present. She opened the box and carefully picked up its content. It was a small green brooch in a four-leaved clover shape. Grinning, she pinned it on her dress.

"A lucky charm, Irish version", Charles commented. "Very thoughtful."

From her father, she got an improved version of the metal puppet he had created for her years ago. Soon enough the little iron man started to run around the living room, much to Charles and Erik's amusement.

The present Charles had for Erik was sealed in a very official-looking package. Inside the metalbender found a American passport, driving licence and such. He cast a puzzled look at his friend.

"- Double nationality", Charles explained. "You're now officially an American citizen, courtesy of McCone, but your German passport is still valid if you feel like using it. Consider this an added bonus for the help you gave us."

"- No need to worry about the police any more, then? Thank you, my friend."

"- It was the very least I could do, don't you think?"

# #

Hours later, the two 'headmasters' were sitting in Charles' room, with their usual chessboard, studying the strategy book Erik had offered his friend and colleague. The instructions seemed overly complicated even for an apt player such as Erik. He dropped the book on the floor and pushed the chessboard away.

"- I'm getting a headache", he complained.

"- I'm well aware of it", Charles groaned. "I suggest we forget this imposition and go back to our old way of playing."

"- You mean cheating, right?"

The younger man grinned.

"Just so."

Erik chuckled, and picked the American passport he had been granted. He studied the document for a while, a frown deepening on his brow.

"- You know, this is cheating, too", he said, gently taping the passport against the table.

"- What do you mean? It's cheating because a federal officer got it for you?"

Erik shook his head.

"- No, but rather because it's not my real name on it."

"- I suspected Erik Lehnsherr was a pseudonym, but why do you use it? And where does it come from?"

"- Erik was my father's younger brother. He remained in Warsaw when we left. Herr Lehnsherr was one of my teachers", the metalbender explained in a low voice. "Now I don't believe in God any more, but back then... in the Jewish tradition, a name is everything. You give your name to anyone, you give this person the full powers over you. So when Shaw asked my name... It was stupid and childish, but I lied. I invented an alter-ego."

"- It was not stupid", Charles stated firmly. "In the end, he did NOT have some power over you. You won. You killed him, and yet you're still here, and you live."

"- As for my name..."

"- I'm not asking", Charles cut him, smiling. "You don't want me to have so much power over you."

"- I know you will never misuse it."

Erik leant forward and whispered into Charles' ear :

"Max Eisenhardt."

Charles was more moved by this display of trust than he could say. He could not formulate a word so he opted for a more physical answer. He grabbed Erik's turtleneck to pull the older man closer.

"- What the... ?"

_You talk too much_, the telepath interrupted before kissing him.

_Coming from you, that's rich_, Erik mentally grumbled after they broke the kiss to get some air. "But I'm not going to complain", he added with a smirk, pulling Charles onto his lap.

He quickly started to unbutton the younger man's jacket, then his shirt.

"Too many layers", he groaned when a particularly stubborn button resisted his efforts.

Charles laughed and tugged at Erik's clothes.

"I'll be a happy man when those things are out of fashion. I can't even touch you!"

Erik stopped his work on Charles' shirt to take off his own pullover, and immediately felt the other man's exploring hands wandering on his chest. He gently tapped them away and finished unfastening the offending shirt. Charles was still too thin for Erik's taste. He would have to train with the team as soon as possible. Erik quickly forgot his worries to tentatively touch a bare shoulder, then the soft skin of the telepath's throat, and after that let his fingers trail down until they reached Charles' belt. The German-born mutant cast a questioning look to the younger man, who nodded a consent.

"- Though you will want to try a more comfortable place..."

"- Your bed is just over there..."

The last coherent thought Charles managed to formulate was to hope he would not broadcast his feelings for all the students to hear.

# #

The next morning found the two men curled under the covers, Charles nestled against Erik's chest. One word could describe the atmosphere in the room: peaceful. No nightmares to disturb them, no need to plan a mission for the following day...

Charles woke up first, and remained perfectly still, unwilling to disturb his fr... lover's rest. He would just enjoy the warmth he felt in the other man's arms.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten something... At seven thirty, his alarm clock started to ring loudly. Erik, suddenly kicked out of very pleasant dreams by the ringing, slapped the clock, sending it on the floor.

Charles snorted, then started to laugh.

"- Life is unfair", Erik complained. "I wanted this morning to last some more hours."

"- Well", Charles stated, "we're still on holidays. The girls won't be up before an hour at least... which leaves us a lot of time. I hope that after last night, you still have some imagination left to fill it."


	12. Miles to Go

**12 – Miles to Go**

It had been as if the two weeks of holidays had flown in a blink. Soon enough, all the students were back to the mansion, and Charles received some news that did not please them all. Angel would be released at the end of the month and sent back under the professor's custody. Sean carefully avoided to voice his opinion on the topic, whereas Alex was particularly vocal... and definitely against the idea.

"I say, no way we let her come back! She just left us like trash when Darwin died! I won't have her!"

In the end, despite his constant demonstrations of hostility, Charles and Erik decided to welcome their stray sheep back. Raven did not seem to care much, Hank and Sean were rather hesitant, and Anya and Petra seemed more curious than anything, since they had never properly met the young woman.

"- She was one of Shaw's. Once one of them, always one of them", Alex grumbled one last time.

"- So am I", Petra pointed out.

That cut him short.

# #

The whole team was waiting in the hall when Angel arrived at the mansion, Charles still leaning on his cane. She was a lot thinner than the last time they had seen her, and she was now clad in a regular outfit. It made her look so different, Charles thought, much younger and a bit lost.

Angel dropped her bag on the carpet when she saw them, took one step forward and bowed, her hands joined in front of her.

"Thank you very much for accepting me back, professor. I promise I'll behave. I'll do anything you ask, even the housework."

Erik smirked.

"- _Petra, can you check if she told the truth?_"

"-_ Yes sir. Give me a minute... Yes, the truth, and only the truth. She won't be an issue._"

"- _Excellent_. All right, Angel. You are allowed to stay her. Raven will show you a room."

Angel sighed in relief and followed the shapeshifter up the stairs. It had gone well, one could say. Alex had managed to remain silent... though it would not last. Charles hoped Azazel would be back soon from his impromptu trip to Neverland. He was the only one who Alex really feared in the team; maybe he would be able to curb the young man's temper. But until that day...

The headache was already coming back...

# #

Angel adapted surprisingly fast to her new surroundings. She was making almost comical efforts to appear at ease in the wealthy house, and the professor finally told her to forget the act. None of the others would try to polish his or her shoes on his trousers (or her stockings) before entering his study, for instance. At the end of January, the young woman had managed to obtain a nearly normal situation amongst the other residents, with the notable exception of Mr Summers.

# #

Meanwhile, the two 'headmasters' had finally designed a new training room for their students. Charles's house had a _huge_ basement on three separate levels. Apparently, not only was Kurt Marko a total paranoiac who had added two levels to the original one, but the late Mr Xavier had often experimented some of his devices at home, which had left a lot of rooms, corridors and stairs under the house. They had selected the most suitable areas, and contacted a building contractor to have a lift built. They would have to transfer a lot of furniture in the basement, and the stairs were too narrow for that task. Furthermore, if someone got injured while training, a lift was certainly the most secure option to bring him or her back to the surface. The kids were eager to test the installation and as soon as the last layer of paint was added, they rushed into it to try all the devices their teachers had added. Let's say they got a little carried away... Hank had to face a lot of work after this first session to check all the cuts and bruises his co-students sported.

After some weeks, it became obvious that Azazel had decided to settle in the mansion for good. The teleporter did not wish to teach anything, except maybe some hand-to-hand fighting methods, but suggested he could search for potential students until Cerebro II was ready. Charles accepted the offer gladly.

They had to choose a place to start the 'hunt' and opted for Europe, as Azazel would be on more familiar ground. The red-skinned mutant required that one of the adults came with him. His appearance would likely frighten away some potential candidates, and a more 'usual' face would be accepted more easily. Charles was debating whether to send Erik or Hank when an incident settled the matter. It happened on an evening, during one of Raven's attempts to get Erik's attention back.

"- I'm sorry, Raven, but you're really not my type", Erik calmly stated.

"- And who is? It has been so long since you made that girl of yours that you forgot how it's done!" Raven snarled.

"- I did not. I'm just not interested in screwing you. Full stop."

Erik winced when she slammed the door of his room.

He was only mildly surprised when, the following morning, she decided to join Azazel on his trip to Europe.

Curiously, Hank seemed to be the only one affected by her departure. Charles felt like he was breathing a little easier. He had never been parted from his sister for very long, but now, knowing she was on the other side of the Atlantic made him feel better and more secure.

Sean and Alex seemed indifferent, and the girls appeared rather pleased by Raven's absence. The prospect of getting some new team-mates also appealed to most of the group.

# #

The first find occurred about three weeks after the duo had left for Great-Britain. The 'hunters' had met with one Betsy Braddock, a charming and elegant young woman who displayed a promising gift for telepathy and a little bit of telekinesy as well.

According to Azazel's report to Charles, she did not require much training. She had mastered a great deal by herself, but lacked a partner to practise really efficiently, so she agreed eagerly to come and visit the brand new institute during the following summer, as the coming year would be a very busy one for the freshly graduated Betsy. Charles almost opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate this first success.

After Great-Britain, the pair decided to explore France, Spain and Italy, before going to Germany. It looked more like holidays than real business for the Institute. Or a lovers' trip all over Europe, as Erik had suggested, much to Charles' annoyance.

Raven and Azazel spent little time in Spain. The whole country was swarming with spies and policemen, and they did not remain long enough to carry on a complete inquiry.

Italy did not provide much either. They had heard rumours about a man able to perform wonderful tricks with cards and other objects, but it turned out as an ordinary 'magician', though a very good one.

In France they met with a boy who could turn into a human chameleon, taking the colours of his environment. He did not wish to leave for the States, as his gift did not cause him much trouble (his parents were not even aware of it), but agreed to keep in touch in case he discovered other mutants. He seemed very proud to be in charge of such an important mission.

Raven and Azazel had been away for four months when they decided to give Germany a try.


	13. Breaking Plates

**13 – Breaking Plates**

Azazel and Raven had been away for nearly four months when another, more disturbing incident occurred at the institute. As usual, Erik was spending his evening in Charles' quarters and the pretext – a chessboard – was laying on the floor completely forgotten, its pieces sprayed all over the carpet. The telepath was working on a particularly stubborn knot in Erik's muscles when he suddenly stopped and jumped from his bed.

"- What's the matter?" Erik grumbled.

"- There was someone listening at the door", the younger man sighed. "For our sake, I hope it was just Anya..."

Even while saying it, he had the feeling he was very, very wrong.

# #

Alex did not come down for breakfast on the following morning. Charles sighed and readied himself for another long therapy session with the young man. Again... He could understand rebellious feelings in a teenager, to a certain extent, but Summers had been in the team for nearly eight months now, and showed no sign of getting better. Charles was increasingly annoyed by this behaviour.

He knocked on Alex's door without any result.

"Alex, could you open that door, please? I don't know what you're playing at..."

Something heavy impacted against the wood, startling him.

"Go away, you pervert!"

Charles blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

Some steps to the door.

"I saw you and your German friend", Alex barked, his voice dripping with sarcasm on 'friend'.

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he had foreseen. But then, how could he have guessed that Alex would be such a bigot?

"- No way I'm remaining in that school with you freaks! I'm leaving!" the young man bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"- You'll be leaving the institute at the end of June, like everyone else, and never come back, if that's what you want", Charles answered in a strained voice.

"- YES, that's what I want!"

Charles sighed again and shrugged. He did not wish to fight the boy's decision. They would have to bear Alex for just some more weeks, then he would tell Mrs Summers that her son could control his powers and would not be a threat any more... which was true, by the way.

The end of June could not come soon enough for all the residents of the institute. Apart from Erik and Charles, no one knew exactly what had happened (though some in the house had a pretty good idea about it), but everyone could feel the tension. It was a relief when the school year was finally over and Alex left with his mother. Hank and Sean also took their leave, and promised their friends to send tons of postcards from whatever tropical paradise they would spend their holidays in.

"Hank won't leave his personal lab, and Sean is going to Ireland", Petra pointed when they were gone. "Tropical paradise indeed..."

# #

It was the middle of summer when new troubles arose. Charles was keeping an eye on the girls from the library windows when the telephone rang. The telepath reluctantly let go of his book to go in his office and answer. With some luck, it would be Raven, announcing the discovery of a new potential student.

He was sorely disappointed when he heard Azazel's voice, reporting rather disturbing news.

"- I can't vind 'er! It's a complete disaster!"

"- Calm down and speak slowly, will you?"

"- Calm down! You're one to talk!"

Azazel's voice was shrill with worry, his Russian accent thicker than usual.

"- She left, dourak, she left! I 'ave searched every place I could zink ov. 'ow can you vind a shapeshifter in zuch a large city, I ask you!"

"- Raven left you? What happened?" Charles asked patiently.

"- Yesterday evenink, we... 'ad a row. She ztarted callink me names, zen said she was better off wizout any of you guys. And she left."

Charles groaned in dismay. Raven had been out of control since she had understood what passed between her brother and Erik, and now she was lost for them, until Cerebro redux was completely built and operational.

"- And you have no idea about what could have triggered this reaction?"

"- Abzolutely not", Azazel answered firmly. "Zings were going really smoothly between us. We went back from our zearch to our 'otel, I decided to take a shower and ven I was done, I vound her in the room looking vurious and screeching at me."

"- Well... keep looking for her, and if within two weeks you did not find her, you'll come back here at once. No need to scatter all around the world."

A very disappointed, depressive and tired Azazel came back on the 19th of August, and Charles questioned him for three hours non-stop in order to understand what had really happened. It appeared that Raven and the teleporter had become lovers during their European trip. They had had their very first quarrel precisely on the evening Raven left, and the red-skinned mutant had no clue about what had triggered such a row.

Charles let the man rest after that. He was trying to plan a way to find his wayward sister, but without Cerebro, his efforts would be useless. She was too far from him to be detected. He would have to wait for Hank to finish his improved version of the device to start his search.

When the scientist came back at the end of August, the rest of the team barely avoided a major fight between him and Azazel. As far as Hank was concerned, Raven's departure was entirely Azazel's fault. No one dared to mention that they had been in a relationship, since Hank was still smitten with the blue-skinned shapeshifter. It took some time to reason him, but after a lengthy discussion with Charles, Hank managed to cool down, and started to work on Cerebro, with Erik's assistance. They were positive they would be able to provide a new prototype within six months.

Charles left them to their tools and welcomed his students back. Sean was here, as well as Angel, and a newcomer from South Dakota, a Native teenager who suspected that his strength and speed had nothing to do with common abilities. When Charles wondered how the boy, who introduced himself only as Thunderbird, had known of the institute, it appeared that during his first trip with Cerebro, he had brushed this particular mind, but at the time, 'Thunderbird' had not reacted as strongly as the others. But he had discovered the identity of this fleeting contact, and gone to Westchester in order to find some help, that the rest of the team eagerly provided.


	14. Closure

Hi, everyone. Well, just an epilogue after this one and this story will come to an end. I hop you'll enjoy the reading...

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><p><strong>14 – Closure<strong>

September came and went, and Charles received another student, a talkative girl named Alison Blaire, who had the seemingly harmless power to turn sonic waves (music, other people's voice, any noise) into light effects. Only her own voice was immune to her gift. Her parents thought the thing was more amusing than anything, and would be a great help for the career their daughter dreamt of, but a little training could not hurt.

Miss Alison settled quite nicely in the mansion. She was too old to have real quarrels with Anya and Petra, thank God for small favours, and spent much of her spare time training in the gymnasium to improve her dancing skills.

Then November came.

The children were busy studying their maths on this morning of the 22nd, and would have rather spent the day watching Kennedy's visit in Dallas on the television. They were all quite huge fans of the President. But Charles had strictly forbidden them to leave the classroom, even for a peek.

The day was going on peacefully, when the phone rang, and when Erik picked it up, it was to hear McCone's voice, strained and almost tearful.

"- Director McCone? To what do we own..."

"- They... oh my... Someone shot the President!"

Erik felt like something cold had closed around his chest. Kennedy had been their most vocal advocate against part of the CIA and the Army. If he died, McCone would never be enough to protect them, no matter how hard he worked.

But the blow him and Charles were expecting did not come. The new President, Johnson, was busier with the civil war in Vietnam than with a mutant hunt. A full-scale war between the United States and the Viet-Cong... Kennedy would be rolling in his grave...

Fortunately, all their former allies had not forgotten them, and kept the Institute updated on whatever might pass between the President's office and Langley. Stryker had been fired, as expected, and had been forced to swear he would not reveal the existence of mutants. Who would have believed him, anyway? Of course, the man had sworn revenge, but for now, he was sorely lacking funds and allies to carry on with this project.

Other news came from the Agency, and they were a complete – if not pleasing – surprise for one of the residents of the school.

# #

Erik reread the letter, unsure he had properly understood it. He smiled bitterly. Pendrell's idea of looking for some remaining relatives back in Europe was kind, but the only one they would find under the name Lehnsherr would be his former... wife. And he had to admit, the CIA was efficient when it came to track someone down. Magda had travelled back to Germany after leaving Anya and they had discovered her in Köln. Erik even had an address: a mental institution. He sighed. He would go nonetheless. He would not give another try to the failure his marriage had been, of course not, but this was the last step to find what he had been looking for during nearly twenty years: closure.

Charles made no objection to his partner going to Germany in order to finally solve his personal matters. As long as he warned his colleagues of any mutant he would come by...

# #

Erik landed in Köln eleven days after receiving the letter. Courtesy if the division of the German territory, direct flights from the United States to Germany were scarce, and travellers were used to changing for another plane in London or Paris airports. Köln airport itself was swarming with soldiers and policemen. At least finding a cab was an easy task. Several of them were waiting for passengers at the airport main exit.

Erik asked the driver the address of a reasonably cheap hotel, and the man happily complied. He was amiable enough to help his passenger with his luggage once they had reached the hotel in question.

Hours later, Erik was still sitting on his bed, unable to find sleep. Nightmares were not guilty this time, he was just lost in thought. He did not know how to face Magda, or what to tell her. Well, certainly not that she was invited to come with him to Westchester. He had no idea of her current mental state. Maybe she would not even recognize him; if Erik was honest with himself, he was hoping for such an easy solution.

The place was isolated from the town, so that if one of the residents took an impromptu leave, he or she would be spotted and brought back quickly. Not that any of them was really dangerous, the administrator assured Erik, but most were not able to take care of themselves on a daily basis.

"- And if I may be curious, sir, who are you visiting here?"

"- My wife", Erik answered curtly.

The doctor did not insist and instead led the visitor to one of the rooms.

Magda had not changed so much during those five years. She still had a full head of curly brown hair and remained lean and alert. Unfortunately, she had also retained her memory, and immediately identified her husband when he entered the room.

"Oh... Hello, Erik."

He sighed. Life could never be easy.

"- ' morning, Magda."

"- You are late for work", she added with a bright smile. "You should hurry."

He frowned and turned towards the doctor.

"- What is her problem, exactly?"

"- Well... it appears she has no idea of the year and the place she lives in. She still thinks we are in 1949... It is as if she had erased the last fourteen years of her memory, as a was to protect herself."

"- From what?" Erik almost barked. "The fact she abandoned her child?"

The other man shrugged.

"- The human mind is a strange place. Whatever is perceived as a threat is carefully ignored, forgotten. There are so many traumas in her life that I am surprised she still remembers anything. Her long-term memory is too damaged to allow her out. She needs constant supervision and is prone to spectacular fits of anger, from time to time."

"- Not the kind of person you would want around teenagers, I assume?" Erik muttered.

"- Most certainly not."

In a way, that made him feel better. He would not be guilty of neglect if he left Magda in the institution. He didn't know how she would react to Anya, and how Anya would react to her biological mother. The girl seemed perfectly fine with having two 'fathers'. Magda would be an intruder in Erik's new family.

On the evening, after coming back to his hotel, he called the Institute to report the news. Erik had the distinct impression that Charles was just as relieved as his lover. He frowned a bit upon the fact that Erik had decided to take a three-days long vacation from his job as an instructor, but he was mostly disappointed because the older mutant would not be present at the first test of Cerebro Redux.

# #

About twenty-four hours later, the receptionist called for Erik, telling that he had someone on the phone from the United States. The metalbender grumbled and put his clothes back on. He would not go to sleep early as he had planned, it seemed.

"- Hello, old man!" said Charles' cheerful voice.

"- Charles, do you know what time it is in Köln?" Erik groaned.

"- Yes, about eleven in the evening, so I was sure to find you awake", came the amused reply. "Stop being grumpy, will you? Cerebro is working again, and it located Raven."

"- What? Where?"

"- Last time I checked, she was in Grafing, near Munich. Do you want to give it a try?"

As if he needed to ask such a question.

# #

When Erik arrived in Grafing, the town was buzzing with rumours of a strange birth at the local hospital. After questioning some people about it, he had a fairly good guess about what had happened. A pregnant Raven had had a fight with Azazel, left without telling about the child, and settled in that quiet city to give birth. Unfortunately, the strain had certainly caused her control on her mutation to slip, and she had revealed her blue and scaly form to the medical team. According to the rumour mill, the mysterious woman had fled and left her weird son behind. Erik went to the hospital immediately. It was surprisingly easy to get in and be granted access to the child.

Erik glanced at the baby in the crib and nearly choked. The child had inherited both his parents' most prominent features, i.e. blue skin, yellow eyes and a pointed tail. Only time would tell if he tended towards teleportation or shapeshifting. The baby shifted in his sleep and Erik noticed his three-fingered feet. What could become of that little thing? At best he would end in a circus. At worst... What could have possessed Raven to abandon her son?

"- Does he have a name?"

"- His mother said she wanted to name him Kurt", the nurse answered.

Erik frowned. Of course Raven had to choose her stepfather's first name. Charles would love that.

As the baby was asleep, Erik did not try to touch him and just sat beside the crib, pondering what he could do for the poor little thing.

Soon the surgeon who had delivered baby Kurt joined the pair.

"- He is one of these new persons, the strange people that are appearing... these mutants, right?" the surgeon asked.

"- He is", Erik confirmed, wondering how many of them had been sighted. "I notice that you don't believe in the Devil theory."

The man chuckled.

"As a scientist, I don't believe in such things as the Devil. As a German citizen, I completely agree with Joseph Conrad when he says that a supernatural source of evil is totally unnecessary."

Erik raised an eyebrow, then nodded. The doctor seemed relieved.

"- What are you going to do with this little one?"

"- His mother was... is my friend's sister."

"- Oh... you mean Kurt's uncle is willing to take care of him?"

"- That he is", Erik lied easily.

Charles was going to kill him...

# #

Charles' voice was surprisingly not light neither alert for this hour, Erik noticed when he phoned to the United States. It could only mean one thing.

"- Let me guess, you've been working on Cerebro again?"

"- Indeed. Some parameters needed to be more... refined for the machine to be effective. What are the news?"

"- I'll need Azazel to come back home. There's a little surprise coming along."

He heard a very long sigh. Then a dismayed groan.

"- Do you mean I'm officially an uncle, now?"

"- Well... yes, I do. Sorry", Erik added in a not-so-sorry tone.

"- Oh, right. I'll send Azazel", Charles agreed with a sudden yawn. "Have a safe trip."

# #

Due to jet lag, most of the household was already asleep when both men came back from Germany. The only one up was Angel. The young woman was used to stay up very late - or very early - and had waited for them in the main hall. She immediately spotted the bundle in Erik's arms and went to look at it.

"Ojala! Que lindo eres tu!"

Angel literally melted when she discovered Kurt. She took the crying baby in her arms and started to rock him against her chest, singing softly in Spanish. Her lullaby quickly soothed the child, and after some mere minutes, he stopped crying. She smiled at her two team-mates.

Azazel had then his first real opportunity to look at the child. For a moment he seemed rooted on the spot. He took one small step towards Angel and carefully reached for the baby. Erik watched them with the tiniest hint of a smile. He must have looked quite the same, he thought, the first time they had put his daughter in his arms. The teleporter examined the baby's fingers, his pointed tail, delicately touched the soft blue fuzz on the baby's skin... He was biting his lip, to refrain either a sob or a laugh, it was hard to tell. Little Kurt seemed fascinated by his father's hands and he quickly grabbed a finger, his tears forgotten.

The noise had awaken the other residents of the house. A line of curious students had appeared at the top of the stairs. As usual, Anya and Petra were the first to reach the newcomers.

"Papa! You're back!" Anya chanted happily.

Meanwhile Petra was examining Kurt very closely. She was fascinated by his fur. Anya then noticed the baby and joined her friend to have a look at him.

Anya declared herself satisfied by the new addition to the family.

"This way, I won't be the baby of the team any more."

Charles slid to Erik's side.

"- You have a strange expression on your face... How are you feeling?"

"- At home."


	15. Epilogue

Hello readers! First, I'd like to wish you all a merry, merry Christmas! Have a good time with you family, a fine dinner...

Here is my little present for you. Hope you'll enjoy it, it's the last chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue – and the Road Goes on<strong>

_1965..._

In April, the institute received the unexpected visit of John McCone himself. At first, Charles was worried that the Director's coming at Westchester would damage his reputation, but McCone had already decided to resign, since Johnson systematically dismissed his advice about the situation in Viet-Nam, amongst many other things.

"If at least I had a competent boss", McCone sighed. "I'd take untrustworthy and intelligent over earnest and incompetent any day of the week. The problem is, I'm not even sure Mr Johnson is earnest..."

He was still firmly convinced that the new president had something to do with his predecessor's murder.

After that, Charles promptly cut any contact he still had at the Agency. Without McCone to protect his team and students, he did not feel safe enough to go on working with the federal government.

# #

_1971..._

In retrospect, it had been one Hell of a year. Alex and Scott Summers' mother had died in a plane crash, along with her husband, leaving a eleven-year-old Scott alone, as his brother was abroad when the accident happened. The late Mrs Summers had left directions so that her youngest son should be sent to the Institute. Charles found himself in charge of a wounded, traumatized little boy who, on top of everything, was also a mutant burdened with the dangerous ability of projecting a kind of laser beam through his eyes. This power was curiously similar to his brother's, but due to the head injuries Scott had suffered during the accident, it soon became clear he would never been able to control it. It took all Hank's resources to create special glasses that would contain the beams. In spite of the scientist's dedication, the poor boy had to spend months with his eyes closed.

# #

_1972..._

Charles was feeling slightly desperate. He had never imagined that the Cuba fiasco would have such long-term consequences. Stryker's son, William Jr, had undertaken a crusade of a new sort against mutants in order to 'avenge' his father. In his actions, he was very much like Sebastian Shaw, not killing but twisting and using mutants' talents against the rest of their population, or even normal people, to increase their rampant fear of the unknown. Standard humans were slowly becoming aware of the existence of a new humanity, and Stryker's campaign of misinformation and racist propaganda, along with the terrorist acts he was staging, was leading to a catastrophe. Charles did not know if he would be able to prevent Erik from snapping for good, and reverting back to his old ways.

# #

_1975..._

It had been a close call, this time. The school and its twenty-five students had nearly been exposed by Styker's attempt to capture one of them. The man, now a major in the Army, had felt the need to add a teleporter to his growing collection of mutants. He had settled for Kurt, thinking the boy too untrained to resist long. Anya, Angel and Sean, who had been with the elf-like child during the attack, had been more than pissed with the intrusion, and had treated Stryker's men accordingly. Then Azazel had joined the fun...

They had worked on the floorboards and wall paint for days after that in order to get rid of the blood stains. Still, Charles had to buy two more carpets to hide some particularly tenacious spots.

# #

_1976..._

Sitting on a chair in the corridor of the hospital, Charles was observing Erik. The man could not remain still, no more than Sean, who was standing against the wall, trying to find a composure.

"- Hold still", Charles gently chided.

"- Damn!" Erik sighed. "I can't believe it. I'm too young to become a grand-father."

"- What should I say?" Sean protested from his spot.

"- Nothing", Erik groaned. "And be glad I'm in a good mood right now."

His unofficial son-in-law was ready to reply when a nurse came to the three men, a huge smile on her face.

"- So, who's the lucky father?"

Silently, both Charles and Erik pointed to Sean.

"- Well congratulations, Mr Cassidy, you have a beautiful baby girl."

Sean would have passed out on the floor if his former teachers had not caught him before he hit the tiles.

Two months later, the tables were turned, when Charles found himself in charge of a thirteen-year-old telepath named Jean Grey, with a temper as fiery as her hair, who seemed even more powerful than her teacher. Her parents did not really know how to deal with her, and the professor had to adapt very quickly to the joys of parenthood.

# #

_1979..._

Stryker's work with mutants had proven worse than they had first believed. The man had access to the most up-to-date technology and huge amounts of money thanks to anonymous, though very generous benefactors, some motivated by the same hatred of mutants, others foreseeing potential benefits for their firms if they could find a way to improve humans without undergoing a full mutation. You could even say he was able to recruit his own personal army. Funny thing, Petra had learnt that Stryker's son Jason was a mutant himself, but completely unable to control his psychic gift. The boy was unstable at best, and the psychiatric who had hired Petra strongly suspected severe flaws in Jason's brain structure. Even without that, the boy was not safe with such a father.

Through McCone's contacts, Charles and his team had learnt that the Canadian government was missing one of his mutant operatives, a man named Logan. From his file, they quickly recognized the foul-tempered, cigar-smoking bastard who had so rudely turned Charles and Erik's offer so many years ago. If the professor was loosing his hair, while Erik's was slowly turning a silvery grey, Mr Logan had not changed a single bit.

It soon appeared that Logan had been captured and used as another lab rat by Stryker. Erik demanded that Charles sent a team against the man and his pet scientists. Unsurprisingly, all the adult students of the institute volunteered for the mission.

Though they would never admit it, it has been quite a relief to discover that Logan had lost nearly all his memories due to Stryker's experiments. This way, both Charles and Erik would avoid a lot of unpleasant and potentially embarrassing revelations from the Canadian.

# #

_1982..._

As if bigoted humans had not been enough...

Now they had to fight against their own kind.

During the past decade, Charles had had little time to think about his wayward sister. He had not really tried to find her, too busy with the school, training recruits, meeting with officials... Erik had not pressed the issue and neither had Azazel, who had finally moved in with Angel, much to the original team's delight.

Raven had reappeared at the beginning of March, leading a band of mutants whose powers were - just as hers - a clear handicap. A skin colour that no make-up could disguise. A toad-like appearance. A strength so great that even a little pat on the head could break a human spine. That "Brotherhood" had started to create havoc in Europe, before it emigrated to greener pastures and landed in United States.

Charles could foresee years and years of struggles ahead if Raven... no, Mystic now, managed to convert more mutants to her ideas of "freedom fight" and violence.

# #

_2012..._

And years of struggles it had been. Against the so-called Brotherhood of Mutants. Against the government, sometimes. Against ordinary racism. Against time too. Nor Charles nor Erik was getting any younger, and both men desperately wanted to solve as many issues as possible before their time was up.

And now, they were witnessing the end of the fight, with surprisingly good results.

Charles, who had gone completely bald over the years, was sitting in Central Park, watching over some of his newest students, who were happily playing with normal kids. It saddened him that Azazel and John McCone were not here with him to see such a success. At least, he thought gratefully, Erik was still there, and unlikely to leave him.

"- I still can't believe it, but we managed to grow old together", the metalbender said while observing Nathan Summers chasing after Tema and Ororo Munroe. "Would you have bet on it, fifty years ago?"

"- Absolutely not", Charles laughed. "And we even have the opportunity to make it official at last."

"- Indeed..."

Erik smiled and produced a small, squared box from his pocket.

" Well, if you will have me..."

The End


End file.
